The Golden Quartet - Year Four
by September And Summer
Summary: Amara Matthews is soon to start her fourth year at Hogwarts School. After an exciting summer with the Quidditch World Cup, she's glad to get back into the swing of things. But soon, a normal year soon goes out the window, when it's announced the Triwizard Tournament is happening at their school, and an unsuspecting Harry gets selected as champion ... 4/7 in the series - please R
1. The Visit

**_A/N First Chapter of Year Four! I hope you guys enjoy! :D R&R_**

**_Chapter One_**

**_The Visit_**

Amara Matthews sighed as she watched a cartoon with her younger siblings. Tessie was the only one to be watching it fully - Ethan was fiddling with his potion supplies, which has a huge label on it telling Tessie to keep her hands off, and Amara was writing a letter to Tally, her cousin. Tessie has turned the TV up rather loud, and the annoying theme tune of the show kept playing.

"Can't you turn that thing off?" Ethan said, rather irritably, but Amara privately agreed with him, because the show was rather excruciating. He's been rather grouchy all summer, when he found out Amara may be going to the Quidditch World Cup. But that was nearly a month ago and he still hasn't forgiven her. Amara didn't know why it bothered him so much - maybe it was the fact that Piper and Eddie were going, but Flick had written telling him she wasn't going either, much to her dismay.

"No," was Tessie's reply as the theme tune turned on for another go.

Ethan frowned and huffed out the room.

Amara watched him go and turned back to her writing. It wasn't getting very far.

"You can turn it down at least," Amara told her sister, who merely stuck her tongue out in return and turned the volume up. It only lasted for a minute, though, for they heard their mother's shout from the other room, telling her to turn it down.

Amara smirked before going back to her letter.

_Dear Tally,_

_Thanks for your letter; it was a nice to hear from you finally. I hope you're having a nice summer - it's a shame that you aren't visiting. My holiday hasn't been the best, I suppose, because _

Because _what?_

She'd been bored as soon as she got home. Jesse, Noah and Tally weren't scheduled to visit nor was she going to visit them, Hermione couldn't come over and she still hasn't had word from Ron about the World Cup. She had received and sent letters to Harry, who was allowed to use Hedwig, because if not, the Dursley's were scared that Sirius Black would come to their house and turn them into toads. Amara was glad that Harry now had Sirius to talk to, it seemed like he had something else. She remembered all the events from the year before - and how they were the only people in the country (except Professor Dumbledore) to know of his innocence. If only they'd stopped Pettigrew transforming - or new enough magic to make him unconscious, like he did to Ron and Crookshanks. If they had, Harry would have been as to leave the Dursley's!

Because of the secrets, Tessie thought she had had a normal year at Hogwarts, not at all like the years before, but Ethan had let it slip at dinner that their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was a werewolf, and it took two weeks, with the help of Piper and Eddie, to convince them that he wasn't like the others.

A week into the holiday, Harry has also written to her, begging for some food, because apparently Dudley had a new diet that his school had set up for him, because he was getting too fat, which meant that Harry had even less food than he had before. Her mother had reacted at once, and Archimedes was laid down with a selection of cakes, pastries and packets of food. Then, on his birthday, which was last week, Amara contacted Hermione and Ron about sending birthday cakes, which they did, with gusto.

Apart from that, her summer so far had been just lazing around in the sun and going out with her family.

It made her guilty to say it out loud, but she missed the magical world with all her heart. She wished he could see Harry, Ron, Hermione and the Weasleys - maybe play a game of Quidditch and laugh at the jokes by Fred and George. She wouldn't even mind seeing Percy again, who, by the sound of it from Ron, had gotten a job at the Ministry of Magic - in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, the same as Amara's Uncle Louis, whom Percy had indeed talked to.

_Be careful_, Ron had written, _he now adores Louis Reynolds, because of his importance in the French Ministry. He told Percy about you and he can't wait to get more information..._

This had made her groan, but laugh all the same. She didn't want Percy questioning her about stuff she didn't know!

The other things distracting Amara from her month of doing nothing was visits from her muggle cousins, Sara and Poppy, who lived a few roads away, and her grandparents, who came up, demanding to see their grandchildren who they hadn't seen for a year and doing all her holiday homework. Sara and Poppy were a good distraction, for they were similar ages and they all went out into the town together. They went to the cinema and went shopping, which sometimes felt such like old times Amara felt like she was a Muggle again.

However, her parents realised her discomfort of being away from magic and her friends but didn't know how to act. Ethan confided to her that he felt it too, but he at least had Piper and Eddie over for a week.

Amara had to admit, that was one of the better weeks. Piper and Eddie were hilarious and reminded her of a little version of Fred and George. The week had been full of loads noise and laughter - her mother didn't know how to cope with it whilst her father asked the two lots of questions about the magical world. He was even worse than Tessie nowadays, always asking Amara about the differences of the two worlds. Even though she had had three years of being in the Wizarding world did not mean she knew everything, so she sometimes relied on her books for extra information.

After the week with Piper and Eddie, Ethan went to stay in the McKenzie's summer house in Cornwall with his other best friend Felicity (or Flick, which she preferred), so the house got very quiet after that.

"Cheer up Amara, you're no fun anymore," Tessie said, jolting Amara from her thoughts.

"What?" she said.

"You're no fun anymore," repeated Tessie. "All you do is mope around all day - you only cheered up when Piper and Eddie were here."

"Don't be silly," Amara said.

"I'm not," Tessie said as she stood up and turned the television off. She had grown over the year Amara was away, she was now ten years old and proud of it. "If this is what people are like after a year at Hogwarts, I'm not sure I want to go anymore."

Amara blinked in surprise. "But you've wanted to go to Hogwarts for years!" She said, rather shocked at this news.

Tessie smiled. "I know, but you came back this year and Mum and Dad don't know what to do. It's hard on them you know, because they don't understand it as well."

This was quite a decent and mature speech for a ten year old. And Amara immediately felt guilty for being a grump the whole time she'd been home.

"I'm sorry Tessie," she said, getting up and giving her sister a hug. "I didn't think about it."

"It's alright," came Tessie's muffled voice. "You better apologise to mum and dad though."

Amara nodded.

"You do really want to go to Hogwarts, don't you?" she said before leaving.

"Of course," said Tessie. "Who wouldn't? But I'm not going to be grouchy every time I get home."

Amara grinned and turned into the kitchen where her parents were drinking a cup of tea and chatting lightly about their work.

"Hello sweetie," her mother said, noticing her standing in the doorway. "Do you need anything?"

"No thanks," Amara said. "I came to say that I'm sorry, I'm sorry for being a grouch so far this summer."

Her parents stared at her before her mother stood up, looking rather tearful.

"Don't worry about it," she said and gave her a motherly hug, one that could be compared to Mrs Weasley's. "We understand. We know it's hard, to come back to somewhere that's a different world."

"It's alright Amara," came the gruff voice from her father, who got up too and gave her another hug.

They only broke apart when they heard the postman deliver the mail.

"I'll go get it," said Amara, grinning and she walked down the bright hall. It was full of pictures, ranging from when they were all babies until now - her mother had even got a picture of Amara, Hermione, Ron and Harry in the train station, which Amara never new was taken, but she had had a bottle of the potion that made the pictures move, which she used. Her family adored it, staring at the little figures of the four friends laughing and hugging. Tessie had taught them to freeze when a someone came to the house, so they wouldn't give it away.

She picked up the large clump of letters from the pile.

Two letters for her Dad, a letter for her Mum, a bill, a postcard from Jesse, Noah and Tally from Italy and a letter for her.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise before walking back into the kitchen. She dished the letters out before flipping over the postcard first. The picture on the front was of a sunny beach stretching across the length of it.

_Amara, Ethan, Tessie, Aunt Bry & Uncle David,_ it said in Tally's neat and fancy handwriting.

_It's great here in Italy - hot, but we have a pool in our villa to make up for it. You'd love it here, Amara, there's loads of stuff about Italian Wizards through the ages, and it's actually pretty interesting. We haven't visited the place on the postcard, because its ages away, but I thought the picture was pretty. Jesse wanted to get the one of Rome and stuff, but that's boring so I got the beach instead. We have a guide, too (really Italian, if you get my drift) who speaks French really well (added bonus), and we are trying to teach him English too. It is actually sort of working - he now knows the basics. Hope your summer is alright - reply to my letter fast though, you mean pig, I've been waiting for it! And we hope to see you soon!_

_Love from Tally, Jesse and Noah (and Mum, Dad, Rugby and Caesar)_

Amara smiled as she handed it to Tessie, who had come in to investigate. She felt a pang of guilt at the half written letter in the lounge, still awaiting to be finished. Next, she opened the letter, which was written on normal paper, not parchment.

_Dear Amara,_

_I decided to write through the muggle post, considering you're used to Owl post now. It's been a few weeks since we last saw you, but I was wondering about if you are free for a day trip on Friday. You know I wrote to you ages ago now, about my brother, who's a wizard? Well he's contacted me and I, of course, told him about you and your being a witch as well. He was very surprised, but was rather eager to meet you and Ethan. He has a daughter himself, Chloe, and she's in Hufflepuff, the year above you, like her mother was, and a son, Sullivan, who's also a Hufflepuff, and he must be in Ethan's year. So anyway, he asked about Friday, and I asked you. Do you think you could make it? If you can, just give me a ring and I'll pick you up in Friday at nine o'clock, because he lives a bit of a drive away._

_Hope I'll hear from you!_

_Love Aunt Sophia_

"Hey, Mum, read this!" Amara said, grinning.

Her Mother took the letter and read through it as Amara smiled happily. Meeting a wizard? And he had kids too! She hadn't ever talked to or heard of a Chloe or Sullivan Fawley before, but she hoped they were nice. She may have zoned out of his part of the sorting last year.

"That sounds great!" Bryony said, looking up from the letter. "Do you want to call her now? I'll go tell Ethan."

So Amara went to the phone and tried to remember the number. Once remembering, she dialled the number and waited for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Sophia it's me! I got your letter today!" Amara said.

"Really?" came the excited voice from the other end. "Would you and Ethan like to go?"

"Yes please," said Amara. "I have nothing else to do - and also, it'll be fascinating to see them!"

"That's great - I shall pick you up tomorrow then."

-OOOOO-

The next day, Amara woke earlier than normal - usually she got up in the late morning - and got herself ready for the day. Her mother had put out clothes for her and Ethan, as if they didn't know how, but they were much smarter than her normal summer gear - shorts and a t-shirt.

Her father had gone to work when she went down, but her Mum gave her some pancakes for her to eat, as though it was a special occasion.

"How come we get pancakes?" Ethan said as he walked into the kitchen.

"I thought it'd be nice," replied Bryony, drinking her coffee. "Tessie requested them as well."

The two siblings were ready and waiting at ten to nine, so they sat on the swinging chair in their garden, going through Ethan's collection of Chocolate Frog cards, with Amara giving him hers too. They didn't know what to expect from Max, for what Amara had heard, she only knew he was a Ravenclaw and quite boring. In all honesty, she was expecting someone like Percy - prim, proper and a sucker for the rules. She hoped he wasn't, considering some of the Ravenclaws in her year, like Oliver Rivers.

Their Aunt Sophia, being only a few roads away, arrived at their house dead on nine o'clock. After packing up the cards and saying goodbye to her parents, and Tessie, who wasn't upset that they were going, because she had a party in the afternoon that she wanted to get ready for, they left the house.

They got in the car, went through all the busy roads and were soon speeding down the motorway.

"What's Max like?" Amara asked.

"Well, I don't see him all that much - he travels a lot, you see, because he's a journalist for the Daily Prophet. Chloe and Sullivan just go to school and Victoria - his wife - goes with him. I've only met the children a number of times, but they seem nice enough. I suppose it's hard for them seeing us, because they can't really tell Sara and Poppy about Hogwarts, however I think Sara has twigged, because she knows about you."

"I didn't know that," said Ethan.

"It was in my first year," said Amara. "I doubt she thought you were one too then."

"Oh right."

"D'you guys think Tessie will be going?" Sophia asked.

"I think so," said Amara. "Because Mum says she does a lot of accidental magic now. We'll find out next year, though."

The car ride was at least an hour and a half, but they soon arrived at a rather large house next to the coast, with the beach as their back garden.

"Nice house," Ethan said.

"Yes," agreed Sophia. "It is - used mostly in the holidays, though."

Before they had got to the door, it opened suddenly and a woman with brown hair stared at them before smiling.

"Maximus! Chloe! Sullivan!" she hollered behind her, before turning back. "Please come in." She smiled as she let them through into the tactfully decorated hall and living room. It was fairly large, with two three-seat sofas, a couple of armchairs, a fire place (with a classy pot of Floo Powder on the side) and a television above it. Sitting on the sofas were three others - Max, tall, wearing glasses and his hair pushed back, Chloe, grumpy looking, her hair ketchup red, wearing lots of rings and Sullivan, scrawny with large, producing ears and a rather scared expression. Amara had never seen Sullivan before, but Chloe, she recognised.

"I know you," Chloe said, looking up. She obviously had had the same thoughts. "Amara Matthews."

Amara nodded. "Sorry, I know your face from somewhere but ..."

"I don't care," said Chloe. "But you probably recognise me from the people I hang out with - you know, Heather Roper, Sophie's sister?"

"Oh!" Amara said. "Yeah, she's always hanging round you guys - but I didn't think you guys liked me?"

Chloe raised her eyebrow. "If this is about Malone, none of us cared. Only Heather did, which is stupid because how would you know what Sophie thought?" She seemed to have finished her rant. Sophia and Ethan looked rather shocked at how indifferent she was.

"Well, this is Max and Sully - and this is Amara and Ethan," Sophia introduced them to everyone else and to diffuse the weird silence. "And that's Victoria, of course."

Max stood up and shook their hands briefly.

"You're in my year," Ethan said suddenly, making Sullivan jump. "I know you from Defence Against the Dark Arts and Herbology."

"That's right," Sullivan said, his voice quite high. "And Astronomy."

"Sullivan, why don't you show Ethan your bedroom? I'm sure there's something that you will both enjoy." Max interjected. Sullivan looked rather scared, before taking Ethan out the door.

"I'll go fix lunch, shall I?" Victoria said, and Sophia went too.

"Well this is boring and dull," remarked Chloe and Amara suppressed a grin.

"Chloe," warned Max. But his daughter did not care.

"What?" Chloe said, before sauntering out the room. "Second room to your right if you get bored." She told Amara before leaving, whistling an unfamiliar tune.

That left Max and Amara by themselves. Max was a lot like Percy, Amara thought. But there was something else, too.

"So, which house are you in?" Max said, breaking the silence.

"Gryffindor," said Amara awkwardly. "Ethan is too."

"Ah," said Max. "You seem like a Gryffindor - and, you're just about to go into Fourth Year, am I correct?" Amara nodded. "That makes you the same age as Harry Potter."

"Yes," said Amara. "He's one of my best friends."

Max looked mildly surprised.

"Really?" He said. "You didn't strike me as the type to be friends with him."

"Why not?"

"Well, with all the trouble he gets in - Chloe told us about his first and second year adventures. I suppose you were a part of that?"

"Of course," said Amara, not knowing where this was going.

"Maximus, you better not be interrogating Amara and trying to get information about Harry Potter!" Victoria's sharp voice called from the kitchen.

Max looked apologetic.

"Sorry, I get into a mind-set, from my job," he apologised.

"It's alright," Amara said cautiously.

"Would you like a tour of the house?" He asked abruptly.

"Alright," Amara said.

The tour took about half an hour - Max showed her all the rooms and the additional features from magic. The house had at least six bedrooms, four bathrooms and many different, rather pointless rooms that looked like they were never used. The bathrooms upstairs had huge bathtubs, like a small swimming pool. They ended up in the back garden, a stretch of grass with a fence that blocked off the beach, with a gate at the bottom.

"Do you play Quidditch?" Max asked her as a light wind whipped against their faces.

"No," Amara said, watching the deserted beach (it must be private, she thought). "I'd love too - I mean, I love flying, but there's no space on the Quidditch team."

"Ah, too bad," said Max. "My children hate it - get it from Victoria."

"D'you like it then?" Amara asked, slightly surprised. She had not expected this from a person so like Percy. But, now she thought about it, Percy always went to the Quidditch matches and got quite into them.

"Oh yes, I used to play for my house team." Max said. "I never do it anymore, though, because I don't have the space or time. But I try to buy the newest broom - you know, just in case."

Amara didn't really know, considering she hadn't got a broom herself and she couldn't afford to buy every model even if it wouldn't be used.

He walked over to a shed and opened the door. Stacked inside were loads of broomsticks - ranging from the Comet Two Sixty and the Cleansweep Two all the way to the Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand and One!" Amara said, and Max grinned before picking it up. "Awesome!"

"That's the best model I've got, I decided to draw the line under the Firebolt, I couldn't face leaving it in here to die."

"Wow," said Amara, running her hands down the sleek handle and all the way to gold accents. "You have the gold one!" She said.

"Yes, I didn't want silver," said Max. "Do you have a broom?"

Amara shook her head. "No," she said. "I have an owl though."

Max laughed.

"So you'd like one?"

"Of course," Amara said, not knowing what he was on about.

"Then that broom is yours."


	2. The Invitation

**_A/N Sorry about the delay, back to school and stuff like that (groan). Thanks for the reviews, follows and favourites, hope you enjoy this chapter!_**

**_Chapter Two_**

**_The Invitation_**

_"What?"_ gasped Amara.

"You can have the broom," repeated Max. "I have no use for it, really."

"But ... but it's a _Nimbus Two Thousand and One!_ It must've been expensive ..."

Max shrugged. "Consider it a present then."

"I - I mean, are you sure?" Amara couldn't believe it. A broom! A Nimbus Two Thousand and One!

"Of course," said Max, before looking thoughtful. "But what about Ethan? Does he like flying too?"

"Yes," said Amara, still in awe over the broomstick.

"Then he can have the Nimbus Two Thousand," Max said. Amara gaped at him.

"But we can't take all your brooms!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I was going to give them to Chloe and Sullivan, but they both don't like it, I doubt Chloe even goes to the games, and here you are, eager to play, so why not? It's not going anywhere better," Max said.

"Well ... Thank you! Thank you so much!" Amara beamed. "This is great!"

I've misjudged him, Amara thought as they went back inside, a lot.

It was lunch time half an hour later, so the four Fawleys and three Matthews all sat down for a rather extravagant lunch that Victoria and Sophia had prepared. It was scrumptious, and Amara didn't talk for a full ten minutes so she could eat properly. But then she got curious and decided to ask some questions.

"So, when did you go to Hogwarts?" she asked Max and Victoria.

Victoria laughed. "Oh, it must've been at least twenty years ago by now."

"Might not have changed much," Max said.

"It hasn't, from what you've said," Chloe said.

"Yes," said Max. "Are you hoping to be Prefect next year?"

"No," said Chloe. "Why would I want to? I don't want to be like you or Mum."

"Chloe," Victoria said, and Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Dad was Prefect and Quidditch Captain," Chloe said to Amara. "And Mum was Prefect and Head Girl." She did not seem very happy about this.

"You obviously were very good in school," Amara said, trying not to laugh.

Max nodded. "We tried hard, didn't we Victoria? And that helped us." He finished with a frown in Chloe's direction.

"I don't want to be like you though," said Chloe, stabbing a bit of chicken.

A tense silence followed, before Max interrupted it.

"So Ethan, I hear you like Quidditch," he said.

Ethan gave a glance at Amara who grinned before answering.

"Urm, yeah ... I mean, I love the games and flying lessons," he said.

Max nodded. "Yes, I gave Amara my Nimbus Two Thousand and One, and decided you might like my Nimbus Two Thousand."

Ethan gaped at him. "For ... For real? I mean, they're so expensive!"

"Oh no, you can have them," Victoria assured. "It'll be nice to have the clutter out of the shed."

"It's not clutter!" Max started indignantly.

After lunch, Amara decided to go up to Chloe's room with her, since she had offered.

Her room was normal sized, and had an air of rebellion that was not in the rest of the house. The room had a queen-sized bed (deep purple sheets, duvet and white pillows) a chest of drawers, wardrobe, mirror and bookcase. A desk stood in front of the window. Around the room where various piles of clothing - her trunk stood opened with half the belongings falling out, a purple squashy chair had clutter around it and the desk was unusable. There were many posters on the walls, varying from Wizard and Muggle - _The Weird Sisters, The Beatles, The Hobgoblins_ ... However on another wall were framed photos - obviously Chloe when she was younger (her hair mousy brown) and some of her friends at Hogwarts.

"Do you really dislike your parents, then?" Amara asked cautiously as Chloe dumped herself on her bed. She herself sat on the purple squashy chair.

"I don't know," said Chloe. "I just don't want to be like them or do what they want me to do."

"Oh," said Amara. "D'you mean that they've tried to do that?"

Chloe looked at her. "Of course," she said. "When I took my options they kept bugging me to taking the boring ones like Arithmancy, but I wanted to take Muggle Studies."

"Muggle Studies?" Amara asked in surprise.

"They're fascinating," Chloe said in defence.

"I'm not saying anything against it - I mean, my parents are Muggles."

"Oh yeah," said Chloe. "Better not let my grandmother or grandfather hear that."

"Are they against them then?"

"Sort of, that's why Dad didn't want me to take it, because he thought I was doing it to spite them. That wasn't true until he gave me that idea."

"Did you take Arithmancy, then?"

"No," said Chloe. "I took Muggle Studies and Care of Magical Creatures. Dad was annoyed, so the year after - last year - I dyed my hair."

"Why?" Amara asked.

"To shock him, I guess," said Chloe. "To show him I make my choices - I want to go into a job that involves Muggles, even if my grandparents disapprove."

"What did your friends think about your hair?" Amara smiled slightly.

"Embraced it - well, Winnie did anyway - she dyed her hair blue, which was funny - Eloise looked scared and Heather didn't think I went about it the right way. I don't care, I don't like her." Chloe frowned.

"Oh, I thought it was odd you were friends with her - I mean, from speaking to her sister." Amara said.

"Nah, I can't stand her," said Chloe. "She's so prissy, and acts like Sophie's three."

"Do you like Sophie?" Chloe asked suddenly.

"I - erm - I don't talk to her much, but she's alright, I guess - I mean, I told Roger to go for her instead."

"Did you really?" Chloe said. "Half of me wants to punch you because he's all she talks about, but the other wants to thank you for stopping her moaning."

"I'd go for the second option," advised Amara.

Chloe laughed.

"You're alright, you know?" Chloe said.

"Erm, thanks, so are you," said Amara.

Chloe brushed this aside.

"No I'm not - d'you listen to the Weird Sisters? I've for their records here ... Wanna listen?"

For the rest of the afternoon the two girls blasted the music out, sung with them and did basically stuff girls did. Amara hasn't really done it before - considering two of her best friends were boys and Hermione wasn't exactly into that sort of thing.

All too soon, the adults were telling them it was time to stop, for Amara was going home.

"You can have this, if you want," said Chloe, handing her a Weird Sisters record. "I've got two copies."

"Really? Thanks! I feel I should get you guys something," Amara laughed.

"Nah, we've got enough stuff," Chloe smirked as they went downstairs.

Amara laughed again before finding themselves in the hall.

"Ready to go?" asked Sophia, grinning.

"Yeah," said Amara. "It was great meeting you all."

"It was nice meeting you too," Victoria said warmly. "We can't wait to see you again."

"You nearly forgot this," said Max, holding out the two broomsticks.

"Thanks!" chorused Amara and Ethan, each of them holding the broomsticks like they were babies.

After another round of farewells, the Matthews exited the house near the beach and made their way back to their own houses, not speaking much, admiring the broomsticks, and all in all happy with the day's events.

-OOOOO-

The next day, Ethan woke Amara up fairly early, considering the day they had the day before.

"What?" Amara said groggily. "Go away."

"No!" Ethan exclaimed excitedly. "We have to go check our new brooms out!"

"Where? Here?" Amara said. "Ethan, the Muggles will see us."

"No not here stupid," Ethan rolled his eyes. "Out in the clearing in the wood!"

The 'Wood' as Ethan called it, was a clump of close together trees with a cleared space in the middle, near where Amara and Ethan lived. In fact, it was the perfect place for the two of them to go.

"Hmm," said Amara. "But it is Saturday, do you think many people will be walking?"

"Nah," said Ethan. "I asked Dad and he said that there's building work near the footpath, so not many people go there at the moment."

"Great," nodded Amara. "But there's still a busy footpath on the way - we shall go the Alley way, just to make sure we're not seen."

"The Alley way?" Ethan groaned. "That'll take ages!"

"Not if we're quick," said Amara. "And what would you prefer - getting caught or being able to go on our brooms?"

"Fine," sighed Ethan.

"Does mum know?"

"No," said Ethan. "She'd forbid us, wouldn't she?"

"Yeah," said Amara. Their mother was strict on not letting the neighbours suspect anything unusual coming from the house, which was difficult, because Tessie has shown signs of magic in many other places. She had shown far more than Amara or Ethan had, and it was more powerful too. Their father had written to Mr Weasley (by owl) to ask him about it.

_Oh, it's a great sign,_ the reply from a more-than-happy Mr Weasley had said. _It means she's going to be a very powerful witch when she goes to Hogwarts. See which wand she receives – it will sure show what sort of power she has!_ Tessie had been slightly smug after that.

"It's a good idea you didn't tell her," Amara carried on. "We can just say we're going for a walk anyways."

"Tessie will want to come," pointed out Ethan.

"Well, she can, if she wants," said Amara. "But she can only keep a look out. Actually," she paused. "It would be fun to give her a _little _guidance before she goes to Hogwarts next year. We could only let her go like a meter above the ground – and you or I shall be on it too, just to make sure."

"Good idea, it saves her whining to mum as well," said Ethan. "Wish I had lessons before going to Hogwarts – Eddie and Piper did, but they're not as into Quidditch as me."

"Yeah, I see what you mean," said Amara. "Shall we get ready then? We can't wear anything that proves we're not doing anything else but walking."

Once Amara had gotten changed, and approved Ethan's outfit, they ushered a confused Tessie into Amara's bedroom, considering it was the furthest away from their parents.

"What?" said Tessie. "I didn't _do _anything."

"Now it sounds like you did," frowned Amara and Tessie grinned.

"OK, I swapped the sugar and the salt around, I know …"

"You did what?" laughed Ethan.

Amara rolled her eyes, suppressing a smirk. "You need some more pranking ideas, that one is _so _old."

"Sor-_ry," _Tessie said sniffly. "One does get bored when others go away for years on end."

"Years on end? Don't _exaggerate, _Tessandra!"

Tessie scowled. "You _know _that's not my name." she pouted.

"How can you be sure? _Tessandra."_

"Don't call me _Tessandra! _It's not my _name!" _

Amara and Ethan laughed together.

"Sorry, Tessie," giggled Amara. "It's too hard to resist."

"What did you want anyways?" Tessie said.

"Oh, we're inviting you flying – you know, with our new brooms," said Ethan.

"What d'you mean? I'm not just watching you!"

"No, you can be lookout whilst _we _play for a bit, but then we're going to teach you to fly a little bit! Just so you're more than a little ready for next year!" grinned Amara.

"Really?" asked Tessie. "You'll let me have a go on my own?"

"Maybe, but you can't tell mum! Because she won't let us go because the muggles might see us!"

"I don't like the word Muggles," said Tessie.

"Why not? It's like not liking the word 'witch' or 'wizard'." Amara said.

"I suppose …" said Tessie.

"Trust me, there's a much worse name out there," said Ethan. Amara looked at him, shocked.

"Ethan." She warned.

"What? I'm not going to _tell _her!"

"How d'you even _know _that word?" demanded Amara. "Nobody called you it, did they?"

Ethan flushed slightly. "No," he said unconvincingly.

"Who?" growled Amara, and even Tessie looked slightly startled.

"Just – just some Slytherin's in my year," said Ethan. "Don't worry, Eddie and Piper and Flick hit them."

"_Hit _them?" said Amara. "They didn't get caught, did they?"

Ethan grinned. "Nope, Piper threatened to tell the teachers what they said if they did."

Amara grinned, happy that Ethan had decent friends. "Good." She said.

"Can we go have breakfast now?" asked Tessie.

"Sure – but remember _one _thing, we're going for a _walk, _not going to play one-on-one Quidditch in a Muggle Forest," Amara said.

"OK," said Tessie. "But won't it be obvious when you walk out the door holding broomsticks?"

"Ah," said Amara.

"That's a fair point," Ethan said.

"You need a diversion," said Tessie, a grin forming on her face.

"But how? Mum'll be really suspicious," said Ethan.

"Honestly, E, you have no faith in me at all," said Tessie. "I've got a plan, that will most definitely work."

"What is it then?"

"You take the brooms into the hall, and leave them there, mum and dad are still in the kitchen - not dining room - so they won't see. And also, mum and dad won't leave it for ages yet. Once we've finished breakfast, you say goodbye to mum, and then I shall lead her (and dad, if he's not in the studio) into the lounge and distract her. Then you can grab the brooms and get out the back door!"

"You know," said Amara. "That might work."

"Might? _Might?" _Tessie said. "Of course it will work – I made it up!"

The three of them laughed.

"C'mon on then, let's go – Ethan, you go get your broom, we'll meet you downstairs in two minutes – GO!"

The three siblings entered the kitchen as one five minutes later, finding their mother leaning against the worktop, drinking tea, but their father was absent.

"Excellent, you're here!" said Bryony. "I've fixed you some pancakes – lucky you came down now, or else they'd have been cold!"

"Thanks Mum," said Amara, taking a seat at the breakfast table. "Where's Dad?"

"Oh, he's gone to do some gardening for Mrs Montgomery down the road," said Bryony. "He'll be back by lunch. What are you kids doing today?"

"We're not _kids, _Mum," groaned Ethan, attacking his pancakes. "I'm at _Hogwarts _now."

"Oh, silly me," said Bryony, ruffling his hair. "I didn't know that made _all the difference." _

"Anyway," said Amara, grinning at Ethan's disgruntled expression. "We're going for a walk today," she informed her mum.

"That sounds nice," Bryony said. "Try and be back before lunchtime, alright?"

Once the siblings had finished their breakfast, Bryony put it in the dishwasher, and they went to get their shoes.

"Bye, then Mum," said Amara, back in the kitchen.

"See you later," said Ethan.

"Mum – before I go, can I show you something in the lounge? I made it the other day …" said Tessie, leading her into the lounge.

Amara and Ethan hurriedly grabbed their brooms and ran silently out of the back door and down the garden. Once they jumped over the fence and into the footpath beyond, they waited for Tessie to join them.

Five minutes later, Tessie joined them over the fence.

"Take your time," said Ethan and Tessie punched him in the shoulder. "_OUCH!"_

"Next time, _you _can do it, then," she snapped. "Mum forced me to get a jacket 'in case it rains', _honestly." _She also was holding a ball. "I thought this would come in handy."

Amara grinned. "C'mon, let's get going – but we can't let _anyone _see the brooms!"

"Like anyone comes down this Alley anyway," said Tessie as they began to walk. "They use the main one, like everyone else."

"We have to make sure, though," said Amara impatiently. "You don't understand."

Eventhough Amara was ahead of her, she knew Tessie had rolled her eyes.

The walk on the footpath took about ten minutes, where the houses slowly dwindled down until there was only one or two. Soon, they got to the end of it, to where the building site was, right next to the footpath they were about to go down to get to the wood.

"I think no one's there at the moment," said Amara, peering into the fenced off area. "I think we'll be OK."

"Can we hurry up? I want to check the broom out!" whined Ethan.

"Alright! Alright – c'mon – watch it, there's an uneven bit there."

They hurried past the building site and onto the footpath, which led up a small slop and was next to the wood. They didn't meet anyone on their way up, and they were in the wood in less than five minutes.

Ethan immediately got on the broom and took off.

"This is amazing!" he yelled to them, whizzing around their heads, near the middle of the tree's height.

Amara was grinning; glad to see how natural Ethan was on the broom. She got on hers to and took off, joining him in the air. She hadn't been on a broom for ages, and immediately loved the feel of it, the wind in her hair, the lightness she felt.

They raced each other around the circle, Amara winning by a slight margin, as Tessie sat on a log.

"Tessie – can you chuck the ball up?" yelled Amara.

Tessie got her pink ball and threw it as hard as she could in the air. Amara whizzed down and caught it effortlessly mid-air, whooshing off immediately afterward.

"Try and beat it away," she called to Ethan. "Go get a stick or something."

Once Ethan had retrieved a bat-sized stick from the ground, Amara threw the ball at him, which he hit away a little clumsily.

"That was good! You just need some practice," said Amara, who had flown off after the ball and caught it.

They continued to practice – Ethan doing his Beater skills and Amara her Chaser ones, for at least half an hour before they decided Tessie could have a turn of flying.

"Now, you need to hold it like this, firmly – but I'm going to be on the back for the first few goes," said Amara, showing an eager Tessie.

"Alright," said Tessie. She went in front of Amara and gripped the broom hard. "Do I kick off?"

"Yeah," said Amara and Tessie kicked off hard, making them rise several feet in the air.

"This is amazing!" squealed Tessie as Ethan came up and joined them. "Wow – I feel great!"

Amara laughed. "You're doing fine, try and turn a bit – careful!" she said as they wobbled.

Another half an hour and Tessie was able to fly on her own, a little slower than her two siblings, but better than most of the unexperienced First-Years in Flying Lessons. Amara was very proud of her, and Tessie was so excited she had to sit down and wait because she nearly fell off the broom.

Amara and Ethan tossed the ball to each other, letting Tessie join in too, from the ground, as well. Sometimes, Ethan threw the ball in the opposite direction, and Amara had to race after it, cursing her brother for his laughter. As lunchtime approached, Amara decided it was time to turn back and go home, or else their mother would start worrying.

Her suggestion was met by a series of whines and moans.

"Let's stay a little longer!" said Ethan.

"C'mon, 'Mara, please please please!" Tessie said.

"No," said Amara firmly. "You know that mum will worry if we're not back by lunch."

Tessie and Ethan scowled.

"Come now or I won't do this again," said Amara grimly.

"Fi-ine," grumbled Tessie. "Just wait 'till _I'm _at Hogwarts, you'll never get rid of me." She stalked past her. Amara smirked and walked after the stopping ten-year-old, Ethan trailing behind.

The walk home was uneventful, and they didn't meet anyone on the way. They hopped over their fence and walked to the back door, opening it and startling their parents, who were setting out lunch.

"Why did you go the back way?" asked Bryony, as Amara and Ethan shifted so their brooms were slightly hidden.

"Um," said Ethan. "We decided to go the alley way."

"Is that why you're holding your _broomsticks _behind your back?"

"Um – yes?" Amara said.

Bryony looked at them in a disapproving manner.

"It was foolish of you to flaunt it in other people's sight!" she said.

"We didn't see anyone!" protested Amara.

"Amara made us go the back way so we didn't meet anyone!" said Ethan.

"Where did you fly them anyway?" asked David, looking slightly amused.

"The wood," said Ethan. "You said there was no one there because of the building work – and there _wasn't!" _

"Well, that's fine then, isn't it!" David said, smiling. His children grinned back.

"Why was Tessie with you?" said Bryony. "She's not at Hogwarts."

"Er – she was watching?"

"She wanted to watch …"

"_Really?" _

Ethan caved first. "We were helping her fly!"

Amara and Tessie elbowed him.

"Thanks a lot," hissed Tessie.

"You were helping her _fly? _She's ten years old!"

"And she needs help when it comes to flying!" said Amara. "Unlike normal lessons, you can't be taught it unless you're from a family who knows about it! You wouldn't want her failing a class when she gets to Hogwarts, do you?"

Bryony looked conflicted. "But it's dangerous!"

"I was behind her on the brooms until she was ready to go on her own – and even then, Ethan flew next to her, just in case," said Amara impatiently.

"I was safe!" Tessie added. "It was fun!"

Bryony looked at her husband for back up. He raised his hands in surrender.

"I think it's a good idea – and if we get her some books from Diagon Alley, she'll be more than prepared for when she gets to Hogwarts," he said and Amara, Ethan and Tessie beamed at him.

Bryony sighed. "_Fine,"_ she snapped. "It's lunchtime – deposit your brooms and get down here quick – don't forget to wash your hands! Who knows what else you've touched!"

Grinning and suppressing their laughter, the three siblings hurried out of the room, where they finally managed to let their giggles loose.

"Did you see Mum's face when Dad agreed with us?" chortled Ethan as they went up the stairs.

"And now I get new books on Hogwarts!" giggled Tessie excitedly.

Amara left them on the first landing and proceeded into the attic-conversion that was her bedroom. It was rather messy – her Hogwarts stuff half-in half-out of the trunk in the corner, her wand was on her desk and there were discarded clothes on the floor. Depositing her broom on her bed, she went to wash her hands in the small bathroom adjoining from her room, which was set with a loo, sink and bath with shower. Once finished, she hopped down the stairs and started her lunch with gusto, after realising how hungry she actually was.

Half way through, something fluffy and tiny shot through the open back door and into the dining room, where it consequently started squawking excitedly and flying around in circles.

"Is that – is that an _owl?" _asked Ethan, looking at it.

"I think so," said Amara. "Look – it has a letter." She stood up and the weeny owl dropped down so she could take the letter of it, before it went back to spinning in a circle again.

"It's from Ron," grinned Amara, noticing Ron's rough scrawl.

"I thought he had a different owl?"

"Yeah, but he got this one from someone, because his pet rat – erm – died," Amara lied.

She opened the letter excitedly, straightening out the parchment.

_Dear Amara,_

_How have your holidays been? I know it's been ages since I last wrote, sorry about that. But guess what? DAD GOT TICKETS! For the Quidditch World Cup! And he's got extra for you, Harry and Hermione too! Can you come? Please say you can – I've sent Pig with this letter, sorry if he's annoying, and he'll deliver the reply back pretty fast. If you can go, do you want to spend a week here, at the Burrow, before Harry arrives and stuff? Hermione can't come until next week, and Mum's figuring out the best way to write to Harry's Aunt and Uncle to see if he can come. But she says you're more than welcome to come early – Fred, George and Ginny want you to come too! And Percy, probably, to quiz you on Louis' work, but who cares about that? Bill and Charlie are coming on Wednesday, they've managed to get out of work and come back here to watch it, and have a holiday before going back. And after the Quidditch World Cup, you can stay until we go back to school, because there's not much time left afterwards, and no one knows how long the game goes on for – Dad says one lasted for three days! If you can come this week, we'll pick you up at 3 o'clock tomorrow afternoon, if not, we'll decide another day._

_Hope you can come_

_Ron_

Amara squealed.

"What?" asked Tessie.

"Ron got tickets!" she said excitedly. "And he's invited me to stay over this week too!"

"That sounds great honey!" said Bryony. "So, when did he say he'd pick you up?"

"Tomorrow – is that OK?"

"Everything is fine," said David. "We know you've been looking forwards to this for ages now – and maybe you'll get to use your broom at the Weasley's house, get some more practise."

Amara grinned. "I'll go write a reply now!" she said, beaming, and ran off up to her desk in her bedroom, where she retrieved a quill and some ink.

_Dear Ron,_

_I'm so excited! It sounds AMAZING! I can't wait now. Mum and Dad say that I can come over tomorrow, too, so no worries. I better go pack now – by the way, your owl is rather irritating, and why is he called Pig? It's like calling an owl Mouse or something. Anyway, see you tomorrow at 3._

_Love from _

_Amara_

_P.S Guess what my Aunt's brother (wizard, she's a squib) gave me? A Nimbus Two Thousand and One!_

Amara grinned and folded up her letter, sealing it, ready to take it back down to the annoying owl downstairs. She leant back in her chair and smiled. The summer was talking an exciting turn.


	3. The Burrow

**_A/N Another chapter! And on my birthday too so please review ;)_**

**_Chapter Three_**

**_The Burrow_**

The next morning, Amara woke up feeling excited. When she got up, she immediately started packing her school trunk for the year. She retraced her steps and managed to get everything in there – except the new books for the year, because she had yet to receive a letter for them. Also, she remembered to check how much wizard money she had left, to see if she needed to transfer any over. After asking her mum for some more, she finally slammed the lid closed. She managed to hurdle it down the stairs, including her broomstick and Archimedes' empty cage (he was downstairs on the perch her mum had bought him) and into the hallway. She then went into the kitchen to see her family, where she was finally able to have brunch, considering it was nearly lunchtime.

"Are you all packed?" asked Bryony.

"I think so," said Amara. "I can Owl you if I need something – or get it from Diagon Alley."

"Or we could, when we take Ethan for all his new school things," said David. "We still haven't got the letters yet."

"I think they'll come this week or next week," said Amara. "It won't be too long now."

"Good," said Tessie. "I want those books Dad promised." She grinned.

"You know, I have some books I don't need anymore – you could read them, if you want," said Amara.

"I've already read a few of them," said Tessie.

"What?"

"Oh, last year, I saw them in your bedroom, so I read them."

"What were you doing in my room?" Amara said, raising her eyebrows.

"Cleaning," said Tessie cheekily.

Amara shook her head in exasperation.

The family finished brunch and Amara finished off getting herself ready, before she sat in the lounge, fidgeting as she had to wait two more hours before the Weasley's arrived.

"How will they be getting here?" asked David, walking into the lounge. "Because it would be a drive if they went by car."

"I'm not sure they'll be driving," said Amara thoughtfully, thinking about how their old car was currently in the Forbidden Forest, had vines growing in it and was completely wild.

"How else would they come?" asked David.

"Well," said Amara. "They could either use the Floo system, but they'd have to set that up – that's by using the fireplace, or Apparation," she said. "That means they literally disappear and re-appear where they want, Hermione told me about it."

"Ingenious," said David. "That's amazing!"

Amara grinned and nodded. "Pretty cool, but I've never done it, apparently it's pretty horrible until you get used to it."

"Well, we better leave the fireplace clear then, just in case they use that," said David and he went out the room to tell Amara's mother.

Amara sighed and glanced at her watch. It was two o'clock, still and hour to go before they'd arrive. Deciding nothing was going to happen, she decided to fashion a letter to send to the Reynolds, telling them where she was for the remainder of the holidays.

_Dear Jesse, Noah & Tally (And Uncle Louis & Aunt Elisabeth, of course),_

_Guess what? Ron got tickets to the World Cup, and he managed to get some for me, Harry and Hermione too! How incredible is that? I can't wait – I mean, I'm going to the Burrow a week before it starts and before Harry and Hermione arrive, because Mrs Weasley said so. I wish you guys could come too; it would be so much fun if you were there too. I guess we'll see you next summer then, or maybe at Christmas yet, who knows?  
So if you want to contact me, send it to The Burrow – Archie knows where it is, and I'll tell him to fly back there anyway  
See you soon (hopefully)!_

_Love from _

_Amara_

She went into the kitchen and called for Archimedes, who obediently flew to her shoulder. She attached the letter and stroked his feathers.

"I'm going to be at Ron's after this, so come straight there, alright?"

Archimedes hooted, nipped her finger affectionately and took off through the open window.

"As cool as an owl is, I think I want a cat," Ethan remarked from the table, where he was concentrating on his drawing.

"A cat?" said Tessie. "How boring, I'd want something _cool."_

"Like what?" asked Amara.

"_I _don't know," said Tessie. "It probably hasn't been invented yet."

"What about a Puffskein?" asked Amara, remembering the creature in the Magical Menagerie.

"What the hell is a Puffskein?"

"Tessie! You're ten, do not use that word!" reprimanded her mother and Tessie scowled.

"_Amara _used it," she said.

"_Amara _is four and a half years older than you!" said Bryony. "Of course she can – but not in the same area I am in!"

Amara and Ethan laughed.

"Well, what _is _a Puffskein?" Tessie said.

"It's the custard coloured puff ball, really," said Amara.

"_Custard coloured?" _said Tessie, looking horrified. "Why can't they be pink or something?"

"You could dye one," suggested Ethan. "And see what happens."

Tessie stared at him suspiciously with her eyes in a squint, seemingly trying to figure out if he was joking or utterly serious. Frowning, she waited thirty seconds before answering.

"It would go a gross colour," said Tessie. "Unless you did it more than once."

"True, true," said Ethan. "Mum, can I have a cat?"

"They're a lot of work, sweetie," said Bryony absent-mindedly, because she was making some biscuits which had her full concentration.

"And? Flick has a cat, and it just roams around Hogwarts the entire year, in fact, she said she only saw it once!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Mrs Matthews, looking up in confusion.

"Ethan wants a cat," said Amara.

"A cat?" asked Mrs Matthews. "What's wrong with an owl? Can't you have one of them?"

"No," said Ethan. "I _said _I'd prefer a cat."

"Hm," said Mrs Matthews. "Maybe for Christmas – or your birthday."

"My _birthday?" _groaned Ethan. "But that's in January! You gave Amara the money to buy an Owl two summers ago!"

"Watch it, young man, or else you won't be getting anything," warned their mother, but they all new that Ethan would get one.

"Can I have something when _I _go to Hogwarts?" asked Tessie.

"Well, Amara didn't get Archimedes until after her first year – so only then," said Bryony.

Tessie scowled.

Amara walked restlessly back into the lounge, flung herself onto the sofa and turned on the TV. She flicked aimlessly through the channels, finally finding a movie she wanted and settling down to watch.

It was a very good distracting method, because when the fireplace suddenly turned green and Mr Weasley jumped out of it, Amara was very startled indeed.

"Hello, Amara," said Mr Weasley, brushing himself off.

"Hello," said Amara. "Thanks for letting me stay and getting a ticket for the World Cup."

Mr Weasley waved her off. "It was my pleasure - I say, is that the -"

"Television," Amara nodded as Mr Weasley turned towards it in awe, watching the pictures move.

"Amazing!" Mr Weasley said. "Really fantastic."

Amara grinned. "You can change the channels by using the remote and then you can watch different things." She handed him the remote, which he took and analysed every part of it.

"Good afternoon, Arthur, I didn't hear you arrive," said Amara's father, walking into the lounge.

"David!" said Mr Weasley excitedly. "Amara was showing me your _remote." _

Amara grinned as her father beamed and came over to explain it.

"Excellent!" said Mr Weasley. "And they are powered by _batteries_?"

"Yes," said David. "They go in this compartment here ..."

Amara decided to say her goodbyes to her mother first, because her father and Mr Weasley were going to take a while.

"Mr Weasley's here," said Amara, walking into the kitchen.

"Really? I didn't hear him arrive," said Mrs Matthews.

"He came by Floo - the fireplace," Amara explained. "I think he set it up for just a few hours."

"Oh right," said Mrs Matthews. "Has your father seen him yet?"

"Yeah," nodded Amara. "They're in the lounge - he's explaining the remote control for the television."

"Ah, that could take a while - cookie?"

"Yes please," Amara said, taking a chocolate chip cookie from a plate her mother was holding. "You're really good at biscuits now."

"And I wasn't before?" Bryony asked.

"No," piped up Ethan. "They tasted like sawdust."

Amara and Mrs Matthews laughed. David and Mr Weasley appeared at the door, both of them beaming. Amara could see Mr Weasley gazing at all the appliances in the kitchen - from the toaster to the microwave.

"So all of these run on _eckeltricity_?" Mr Weasley said. "Oh, you have better plugs than I do," he said, looking at the plugs behind the appliances. "I collect them."

"I think we have a spare one you can have," said Mrs Matthews, who looked very bemused at what Mr Weasley was doing. It was Mr Matthews who always talked to Mr Weasley, whilst Amara's mother seemed to talk to Mrs Weasley, generally about recipes.

"Really?" Mr Weasley said, looking delighted.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Mr Weasley?" Amara asked.

"Don't mind if I do, thank you very much," and Bryony bustled about, making tea for them. Amara offered him a cookie which he took gratefully.

"Ron would have come too, as well as Ginny, but Molly made them tidy their rooms - Bill and Charlie are arriving on Wednesday, you see, and they're taking Fred and George's room, and they're going into Ron's room with him. You'll be with Ginny," he finished.

"That reminds me - Ethan, did you tidy your potions supplies up yesterday?" Mrs Matthews said, placing several mugs of tea on the counter.

"Urm," said Ethan. "No?"

"You better go do it then, young man," said Bryony.

Ethan scowled before walking out the room.

"See you at school, Amara!" He shouted from the stairs.

It was nearly four o'clock by the time Mr Weasley and Amara finally left.

"Have a good term, sweetie," her mother said, hugging her tightly. "Don't forget to write."

"Will you be back at Christmas?" Tessie asked.

"I don't know yet," said Amara.

"I don't expect she will," Mr Weasley said.

"How come?"

"Something exciting is happening at Hogwarts - can't tell you yet, but I expect you'll get notified when Amara finds out," he grinned and Amara was instantly intrigued.

"Why can't you say?"

"Ministry business, I'm afraid," said Mr Weasley.

"Well, as long as she's not in danger," Mrs Matthews said and Amara was glad that she thought her tales of what she did in her first two years at Hogwarts weren't completely true (she had said Amara had been exaggerating about the height of the troll, and said the Chamber of Secrets was an absurd idea, though she soon backtracked when Dr Granger told her about the letter try received about Hermione).

"Oh yes, no worries, there's an age limit," said Mr Weasley.

"For _what_?"

"Better get going!" Mr Weasley said loudly. "You go first with the cage and I'll take the trunk and broomstick - is that a _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_?"

Amara picked up Archimedes' empty cage and hopped into the fire. Her family looked transfixed at green flames.

"The Burrow!" Amara said and whoosh! She was spinning fast, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth firmly closed. She made sure her elbows were tucked in so she didn't get out on the wrong grate. What seemed like ages, Amara finally came to a stop - head first into someone red- headed and very familiar.

_"Ron!"_ she grinned, untangling herself from the unfortunate figure on the ground. "I haven't seen you in ages!"

"Oh, hi Amara," Ron Weasley groaned, trying to get up. "Way to make an entrance."

"Sorry," said Amara. "I'm not good with the Floo."

"You don't say," Ron muttered as he got up. He'd grown taller since they last saw each other, and Amara had to crane her neck to see the top of his head. Amara looked around the place she was in, which seemed to be the kitchen. There was a scrubbed wooden table, sitting eight people, counters and a stove and a door leading to a small passageway. It was cramped, but very homely.

"You know, if you grow anymore I'll have to get a step-ladder to talk to you," Amara said.

Ron grinned. "Maybe you're just really small."

"Maybe so, but _you're _abnormally tall," said Amara. "Is everyone here?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "Even Percy." He said this with distaste.

"Oh, does he still want to talk to me about Louis?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "He'd marry the guy – well, after he'd marry Crouch, that is."

"Crouch?"

"His boss," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"_Amara!" _a voice said from behind her. Amara turned and saw Ginny Weasley grinning at her from the doorway. "It's great to see you again!"

"It's great to see you too," said Amara, hugging her. "How've you been?"

"Alright," said Ginny. "Besides the fact that Percy's still here."

Amara laughed, and was surprised when two more laughs joined in.

"You can say that again," said George Weasley, beaming as he came through the door.

"It's entirely true," said his twin and as Amara looked at him, her stomach did a weird flop. She ignored it.

"Hey, you two," she grinned as the two boys came over and squeezed her, one armed, simultaneously, making her laugh.

"It's great to see you," said George. "The summer was getting rather boring before you turned up," he winked. Amara rolled her eyes, but was grinning all the same.

"We'd better show you to Mum before she gets mad again," said Fred.

"What d'you mean?" Amara said.

"We didn't get many OWLs," George sighed. "Dunno why she thought we _would _get any, but it still came as a shock to her – oh, hey Dad."

Mr Weasley had just whizzed into view, Amara's trunk and broomstick in tow, beaming.

"Look what your parents gave me!" he said excitedly, showing a plug, screwdriver and calculator at them. "I'm going to put them in the shed!" he bustled off, leaving the trunk and broomstick.

"Mad, he is," said Fred, before going over and picking the trunk up, George following. "Shall we dump this in Ginny's room?"

"Erm, yeah," said Ginny. "I made room – is that a _Nimbus Two Thousand and One?" _

"Yeah," said Amara, as everyone's gaze went to the broomstick. "My Aunt's brother is a wizard, and rather generous."

"You're so lucky," groaned Ron, picking the broomstick up.

"Amara, dear! I didn't know you'd arrived!" Mrs Weasley had come into the kitchen and noticed the extra person.

"Hi, Mrs Weasley," said Amara. "Thanks for letting me stay over."

"It's no problem, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "Our pleasure – now, if you lot take that up to Ginny's room, then can you go outside or something? I need to make a start on Fred and George's room; goodness knows what's in there for Bill and Charlie to find."

"Sure," said Amara, and she followed Ginny up the rickety staircase to the first floor. There seemed to be a lot more floors and Amara couldn't wait to see the outside of it. Ginny's room was quite small, and had a pretty view that went over an orchard that seemed to be in the back garden. The walls were a nice pink – there was a bed on one side, some drawers, a desk and another mattress on the floor, for Amara. They shoved the stuff in one corner.

"We'll have to make space when Hermione come's next week, but other than that, I think it's alright," said Ginny, looking around her room.

"How are you going to fit another bed in here?" said Ron. "There's no space."

"Ron, if we can fit _four _beds in your room, we can do anything," said George. "Well – Mum can, we'll just watch."

"Seen your cousin's recently?" Ron said, seemingly changing the subject.

"No," said Amara. "They're over in France again now, they're not coming over until next summer, I think, because that's when Jesse leaves and he's planning to get a flat here."

"Why does he want to come here?" said Ginny.

"Like Britain," shrugged Amara. "And he dislikes his accent," she grinned. "_And _probably so he can be near Hermione."

The four Weasleys sniggered.

"What shall we do now?" said Ron.

"I don't know," said George. "Mum wants us _out of the house, _because she's cleaning our room_."_

"It's not like something's going to _explode," _said Fred.

"So rude," agreed George.

"Well, what _can _we do?" said Amara.

"What about Quidditch?"

Everyone looked at each other. The only person not happy was Ginny, who was scowling. Amara wondered why.

"Quidditch it is."

"We _finally _have enough people – I mean –" Fred broke off as a sound rung through the air above them.

"That sounded like Mum," Ron said, looking nervous. There was some banging as it sounded as though Mrs Weasley was thudding around a room straight above them.

"That's our room," said George. They all looked at each other again, and had an unspoken agreement to get out of the room before Mrs Weasley came down.

The group of five quickly sped out of Ginny's room and down, into a shabby, yet rather cosy, living room, trying to look casual on the sofas.

"What've you _done?" _Amara said, as the noise seemed to get louder.

"I've done nothing!" said Ron.

"Me neither," said Ginny.

They looked at Fred and George.

"Mum was cleaning _our _room … right?" said George slowly.

Amara, Ron and Ginny nodded.

"She _might've _found –"

"_WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THESE?"_

Amara jumped as the noise penetrated the lounge. She looked around and saw that everyone else had jumped at the noise too.

"She sounds mad," said Ginny, her eyes wide.

"Very mad," said Amara.

"Shall we see what's happening in the garden?" said Fred casually.

"Sounds great," said Amara and there was a mad rush for the door that led through the kitchen and into the back yard.

The 'back garden' was rather overgrown, with weeds, nettles and plants that Amara didn't know the name of, a pond with lots of frogs, a shed, a garage and beyond that was the orchard that you could see from Ginny's window.

"What did you two _do?" _Ginny said as they ran for the orchard. But they never made it that far.

"FRED GIDEON WEASLEY, GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY, GET IN HERE IMMEDIATELY!"

"Uh oh," said Amara. "She used your full names."

"Well, better not let her see us running," Fred sighed heavily, and him and his twin began the walk back to the house.

Amara, Ginny and Ron followed too, three steps behind, as though the twins were something they didn't want to touch, in fear that they'd catch it too.

Mrs Weasley was standing by the doorway, looking furious, pieces of parchment in her hands.

"Dammit," George muttered.

"Good afternoon Mum," said Fred chirpily.

"We were just getting some fresh air," George said brightly.

Mrs Weasley ignored them.

"_What on earth are these?" _she spat, holding out the long bits of parchment.

"Um, parchment?" said Fred as Amara, Ginny and Ron edged around the side of them, so that they could watch. The parchment seemed to contain lots of writing – lists of different stuff, with prices in the other columns. That writing was too tiny to read, but at the very top of the list were the words: _WEASLEY'S WIZARD WHEEZES _printed in bold letters.

"Don't play dumb with me," snapped Mrs Weasley. "If these are just bits of parchment, you wouldn't mind if I _destroyed _them, would you?"

Fred and George paled.

"What _are _they?" Mrs Weasley said dangerously. "They look like _order forms!" _

Fred and George looked very unsure. Their eyes darted inside, probably to their bedroom, where other things were just waiting to be discovered. Their legs twitched, and Mrs Weasley noticed, because she brandished her wand and went inside the house again, Fred and George starting after her.

"Order forms?" said Ron in confusion.

"You mean, they were going to sell stuff?" said Amara. "What did they make?"

"WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS?" Mrs Weasley's shriek echoed downstairs. Amara noticed Mr Weasley peering his head around the garage, but seeing Amara, Ginny and Ron's shocked faces, he decided seeing what was going on wasn't worth it. "I WILL NOT PERMIT YOU TO HAVE THESE IN THE HOUSE!"

"Shall we go see?" said Ginny and Ron and Amara nodded. They hurried into the house and up two flights of stairs, where what seemed to be small explosion seemed to be happening inside a bedroom, that Amara supposed was Fred and George's.

"You can't destroy them!" yelled George as the trio peered around the corner. Mrs Weasley was burning the order forms right under the twins' noses, much to their horror. Around them lay different objects, all looking strange and weird. "It took us ages!"

"Ages? Then you could have been revising for your OWLS!" Mrs Weasley screamed. "Get rid of it!"

"Why should we revise?" shouted Fred.

"So you can get a decent job at the Ministry!" Mrs Weasley yelled.

"We don't _want _a job there!" shouted George.

"What are you _planning to do then?" _Mrs Weasley screamed.

"Open a joke shop!"

Amara, Ginny and Ron had the decent idea to leave then, before things got too nasty. They hurried back down the stairs and into the back yard again, where they sat down on the grass.

"I didn't realise they were serious in this sort of stuff," Ron admitted when they sat down.

"They actually want to open a joke shop?" said Amara.

"And they were _making _stuff!" Ginny said. "Not just making noises – they were inventing stuff in their rooms all along!"

Amara noticed that Mr Weasley had exited the garage and was making his way towards them.

"So - er - what's going on?" He said as he stopped by them.

"Mum found order forms in Fred and George's room," said Ginny. "And they've been inventing stuff and want to open a Joke shop."

"Oh dear," said Mr Weasley. "Better not disturb them until dinner then."

"Yeah," said Ron. "Dinner is going to be fun."

-OOOOO-

Amara's first night at the Weasley's was rather tense.

Mrs Weasley was still furious with Fred and George for inventing dangerous stuff and wanting an unsuitable job after they left Hogwarts. However Fred and George were just as angry at their mother for getting rid of most of their stock, burning the order forms and saying they weren't allowed the job they wanted. Amara suspected that not all of their goods had been taken care of, and that they were lurking somewhere in the house.

It was a delicious dinner anyways, but not much conversation, considering Amara, Ron, Ginny and Mr Weasley (and Percy, but he was 'preoccupied') did not want to provoke Mrs Weasley.

After they had eaten, Amara, Ron and Ginny went up to Ron's room to get away from the angry people in the house and Percy, who seemed keen to talk about Louis with Amara.

"It's creepy how much he wants to talk," Ginny had said.

Ron's room was at the very top of the Burrow. It was in the attic area, for the roof was sloping, and the room was fairly small but slightly bigger than Ginny's. It was covered in orange Chudley Cannons posters and was slightly messy. His trunk was half open, an owl cage held his owl 'Pig' and a tank was occupied by a very fat frog.

"Pig is a weird name for an owl," said Amara, sitting down on the bed.

"I know, I got your letter," Ron said.

"Then why is it called Pig?"

"His real name is Pigwidgeon," said Ginny. "It's cute."

Amara snorted as Ron looked annoyed.

"He won't answer to anything else," he said grumpily. "Stupid owl."

"Pigwidgeon sounds like pigeon," said Amara grinning.

"I know," said Ron. "That's why he's now called Pig."

Before they talked anymore, the door opened and Fred and George entered.

"What're you lot doing here?" Ron said.

"Getting away from Mum and Percy," said George, making himself at comfortable on Ron's bed, right next to Amara.

"What're they doing now?" said Amara.

"Mum's scowling at us and muttering and Percy's being himself," said Fred.

"Ah," said Amara, nodding. "Has she not forgiven you?"

"Forgiven us?" said George. "She was already contemplating that _before_ she found our inventions, now she's past the line of forgiveness."

"Did you manage to save anything?" said Ginny.

"Hell yes, we put way too much effort in this stuff," said Fred.

"Are you really planning to open a joke shop?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," said George.

"I think it's a great idea," said Amara. "It'll give everyone a bit of comic relief."

"Thank you," said Fred, grinning at her, Amara ignored the horrible fluttery feeling in her stomach.

"But you need to make your goods less dangerous," said Amara. "The parents won't want their children to buy stuff like that."

Fred and George looked at each other.

"Alright," they agreed.

Pigwidgeon gave out a shriek, making the all jump.

"Christ," said Amara. "Why do you keep that owl in here?"

"Because he annoys Errol and Hermes," said Ron grumpily.

"He annoys _them?" _said Amara. "What about you?"

"He annoys me too, but I just give him owl treats to shut him up," said Ron.

"Why did he shriek though?" said Ginny.

"There's something outside the window," said Fred, and they all looked outside the dark window to see something rather large flapping outside.

"Archie!" exclaimed Amara and ran to open the window. Her owl flew in and dropped a letter on Ron's bed. He then swooped round and landed on her shoulder.

"Hey sweetie," she said as he nuzzled into her neck. "You were fast, how did you manage to get to France and back so quickly?"

"He went to France?" said George. "And you sent him today?"

"Yeah," said Amara, frowning.

"This looks like Tally's handwriting," said Ron, looking at the letter.

Amara, Ginny, Fred and George looked at him strangely.

"What?" he said.

"How did – how do you know what her handwriting looks like?" Fred said, looking and sounding like he was holding in a laugh.

Ron's ears went red.

"Er," he said, his voice a lot higher than normal. "I – I, erm, no – I just guessed …"

"Yeah right," snorted Ginny. "What did you do Ron?"

"I – I just, I saw Amara's letter from Tally last year, I just, I know what it looks like," he said.

"You look at me letters?" said Amara, her eyebrows raised.

"I don't read them!" said Ron defensively. "I – is that Mum calling?" He hurried out of the room very suddenly.

"Oh my Merlin," said Ginny. "I think Ron seems to be slightly flustered."

"He's only met her once," said Amara, grinning. She turned to Fred and George, who looked very suspicious. "I forbid you from taking the mick here," she said.

Fred and George merely grinned. Amara and Ginny groaned at them. Ron didn't return for another five minutes, but luckily Fred and George remained mysteriously silent, which Amara did not like.


	4. The Final Weasley's

**_Chapter Four_**

**_The Final Weasley's_**

Amara's next few days at the Burrow were pretty fun. Mrs Weasley always made them tasty breakfasts to start their day; then they would probably get ready for a day of Quidditch (which Amara found Ginny wasn't allowed to do, annoyingly) or spend time with the girl herself, who Amara got to know even more in just one day.

According to Ginny, she loved Quidditch and wished she was on the team.

"I've been sneaking out and playing on their brooms at night," Ginny had said. "Since I was six."

This was impressive, considering her brothers had never twigged that she actually played, and Amara was sworn to secrecy.

They talked a lot about various things and different occurrences, especially talking about 'brothers', which was a hearty topic.

The day after, a Wednesday, was the day Ron's oldest brothers arrived from the countries they worked in. Bill had been in Egypt and Charlie in Romania. The Weasley brothers didn't say anything, but Amara knew they were rather excited to see them again.

However Mrs Weasley had decided to get rather frazzled and everyone didn't really want to be in the house whilst she was there, so Fred and George suggested that they should show Amara around the village, called Ottery St Catchpole. They all readily agreed and hurried to get ready.

Soon they were walking down a small lane that joined to another one, leading to the village.

"So is it a Muggle village?" said Amara as they walked.

"Yeah," said Ron. "But wizard families live here too."

They turned left into a slightly bigger lane, which was rather overgrown.

"Nobody comes down here much, do they?" said Amara.

"Nah," said Ron. "They don't know we're here."

There was a stile at the end of the road. They clambered over it and were in a normal-road, which bent round a corner, which was lined with trees.

"Down there," said Ron, pointing towards the bend. "There's a lane with an old farmhouse, it's invested with Cornish pixies."

"How do you know?" asked Amara.

"We went there once," said Ginny.

They walked up the long road until the came to a bridge, crossing a river. The walked over it, only stopping when a lone car drove past, and walked into the centre of the village.

There were a few shops in the village, and it was bigger than Amara would've thought. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George pointed out all of the shops that were on the main road. There was a souvenir shop opposite the community centre; next to that, a poky little junk shop that Fred and George seemed keen to get into, to find gadgets to use; a charity shop selling weird bits and bobs; on the other side of the road, and next to the community centre was the Post Office, which Amara found looked weird because of the absence of Owls; there was a café, bakery, fish and chip shop; there was an old clothes shop that seemed to be full of old people only; a cute little sweet shop and a convenience store. There were other roads going off the main one – one lead to houses and a playground, another lead to allotments and a flower garden. Where the road turned, a statue was in the middle, with the church further along.

"Some of the other families live down there," said Fred, pointing down '_Otter Street'. _"Place called Magician's Grove."

"And there's a huge manor near the playing field," said Ginny. "It's huge, and no one knows who lives there."

"Where do you want to go first?" said Ron.

"Well, what about the little junk shop?" she said, with a side glance at Fred and George. They all trooped inside, startling the snoozing shop owner out of his stupor.

"Morning," said George brightly. The shop keeper looked at them all weirdly, as if he knew they weren't normal muggles.

Sadly, there wasn't much to offer in the shop, so they left pretty quickly, going towards the end of the road and into the café instead. Luckily for them, Amara had brought some of her remaining Muggle money with her, and bought the five of them a cup of tea each, with left over change.

"We don't come to the village much," said Ron.

"Neither does anyone else," added George.

"But we come occasionally," Ron finished, frowning at a grinning Fred and George.

"I think it's sweet," said Amara. "What time are Bill and Charlie coming?"

"I don't know," said Ron.

"In the afternoon, I think," said Ginny.

"Better be back before then," said Fred.

"Or Mum will get her wand in a knot," said George.

"We still have a while, don't we?" said Amara.

"Of course," said Ginny. "We'll go back around lunch time."

"Well, what d'you wanna do before then?" said Amara.

"We'll show you around some more," said George.

After their tea, which was getting rather cold, they went into the sweet shop, where Amara bought a bag of rhubarb and custards for them to share. Fred, George, Ron and Ginny weren't used to Muggle sweets, so they enjoyed them a lot.

They walked around the main road and came across the church, with an attached graveyard. They skirted around this, and instead went down a little path that went past the flower gardens and Cedric Diggory's house, from what Ginny said (Fred and George looked disgruntled at this).

"That's Magician's Grove," said Ron, pointing down a road that seemed to have a circle of houses in the middle, and a path leading to a hill with some trees in it. "People put shields around the trees so they can play Quidditch."

"Good idea," said Amara, nodding.

They decided to go to the playground, which was off of the main road, and found it was desolate – not a single child was playing on the swings.

"You don't get many kids round here," said Ginny. "There used to be, but they've all grown up and moved away."

"They were older than us," said Ron. "By a few years – about Charlie's age, really, he used to come here all the time. No one does anymore, not when there's no school here."

"It's quite creepy to be honest," said Amara, thinking of the playground where she lived, which always seemed to have a family in, unless it was in the evenings.

After finding there was not much else to do, they wandered back down the streets of Ottery St Catchpole and back into The Burrow's boundaries, which was much more lively.

"Ginny! Can you help me with this?" Mrs Weasley called as soon as they entered the house. "Bill and Charlie will be here soon, I really need this made!"

Ginny groaned and flounced off towards her mother.

"Can I have a go on your broom, Amara?" asked Ron, grinning. Amara rolled her eyes.

"Sure, but I better get it back!"

They played two-on-two Quidditch, throwing apples at each other than actual Quidditch balls, and Amara was pleased to find that her Quidditch skills were not all bad. In fact, she decided that once the older Chasers had left (Angelina and Alicia) she would try and give it a shot.

Amara was on George's team, which was very confusing because the twins always randomly swapped places during games, so you didn't know which was which. They demanded not to be on the same team, so that it made it more 'fun' for Amara and Ron.

"This is ridiculous!" Amara said as once again, she passed it too the wrong twin (they swapped sides so fast it was impossible to figure out, even though Amara was good at telling them apart) "At least say something so I know which one you are!"

"No can do," said Fred but he vanished from her side and him and George whizzed around her.

"Fine," said Amara and flew back towards Ron, who was now on his own broom. "Let's gang up on them." She muttered as she passed him, making it look like she hadn't just made plans.

So when Fred and George next decided to swap teams, Amara and Ron pelted them with apples so they descended to the ground, crying for mercy and admitting defeat.

-OOOOO-

That afternoon, the final Weasley's came back to the Burrow. They all waited in the kitchen for them: Mrs Weasley was nervously flitting about, pleased to have her last two sons back at home again, Fred and George were writing something on a piece of parchment, unbeknownst to Mrs Weasley, of course. Ron was eating some leftover pie from lunch and Ginny was doodling on a recipe book that Mrs Weasley had left on the table.

"Hello?" came a voice from the doorway.

"Charlie!" Mrs Weasley beamed, and hugged the red-headed figure in the doorway. When she had released him, Amara managed to see him fully. Charlie was broad and strong looking, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. He wasn't as tall as Ron and Percy, and a bit smaller than Fred and George, who were average height. Charlie's arms had burns up them, from what was seen from his T Shirt. His face was very tanned, but seemed to be just made up of freckles, like his brothers, and his hair was long, but above his shoulders.

After his brothers and Ginny had greeted him, he turned to Amara, who flushed because she felt like she was intruding in the family reunion.

"Hi," Charlie said.

"Erm, hello," said Amara. "I'm - I'm Amara, by the way, Amara Matthews - Ron's friend."

"Ah, yes, I think he mentioned you," grinned Charlie. He held out his hand, and Amara took it, surprised when he hugged her warmly instead of shaking it. "Nice to meet you."

Amara grinned.

"What, am I? Not wanted?" said another voice.

"Bill!" grinned Ginny and she embraced her oldest brother. Amara was shocked at what Bill looked like. From what Ron had said, he sounded like Percy, but in all honesty - with his long hair in a ponytail, tall structure and even a fang earring, Bill was actually hot. Amara decided not to tell Ginny about this fact, knowing she'd be rather disgusted. Hermione, however ...

"This is Amara," said Ron, and Amara snapped out of her daze.

"Alright?" grinned Bill.

"Hi," said Amara. "Nice to meet you."

"Good to meet you too," said Bill and Amara tried not to blush. She glanced around and saw that Ron was normal, Ginny and George looked amused and Fred and a weird look on his face. Amara raised her eyebrow and turned away.

"Now that we're all here - minus Arthur," Mrs Weasley sighed. "We can all have tea!"

Amara was very interested in knowing more information about what Bill and Charlie did as jobs. Amara was not all-in with what Wizards and Witches did after Hogwarts, because of her being Muggleborn, and she was really interested in knowing more.

"So what do you guys do for your jobs?" asked Amara when Mrs Weasley had bustled about and given them tea and cakes.

"I'm in Egypt at the moment - I might be moving soon, but I get treasure for Gringotts by getting into different tombs - a Curse Breaker is my official name," said Bill.

"So you're like an archaeologist?" said Amara.

"What's that?" asked Ron.

"A Muggle job," said Bill. "But yes, it sort of is."

"Is it dangerous?" said Amara. "I mean, you are going into tombs and stuff."

"Yeah, it's easy to get hurt - my mate, Jed, had to go to Hospital because a curse hit him when he tried to open this tomb. It was really gross -"

"That's enough, Bill," frowned Mrs Weasley.

"C'mon, Charlie's job is more dangerous," laughed Bill.

"What do you mean?"

"Dragons are not exactly the sweetest of things," Charlie grinned. "Yeah, it's pretty hard."

"Sounds cool, though, working with dragons," said Amara.

"It is cool," said Charlie. "it's great. Would you like to work with them or something?"

"I don't think so," said Amara. "It does sound like it's very interesting, but I don't know all the jobs that a wizard or witch can do yet."

"Oh right, there's hundreds of jobs you can do," said Charlie. "Pick and choose."

"Yes," said Mrs Weasley, with a glare in the direction of the twins. "Hundreds of jobs."

With that, she walked stiffly out of the room.

"What was that about?" said Bill.

"Nothing," said Fred and George immediately.

"They want to start a joke shop," said Amara.

"Amara!"

"Sorry," she grinned.

"A joke shop?" asked Charlie. "What do you mean?"

"We invent stuff," said Fred.

"And sell it," said George.

"Awesome," said Charlie.

The dinner that night, was a much better affair than it was the first night Amara was at the Burrow. Bill and Charlie deemed to be entertaining, giving them stories from their work, and joint stories about what they got up to at Hogwarts (some of it, out the ear shot of Mrs Weasley). They went into the lounge as Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley chatted with coffee in the kitchen.

"... and then," said Bill as the rest of them roared with laughter. "Get this - who turns up in the common room and turns out to be the monster in the forest? Charlie and his mate Monty! And they were both covered in mud, which just made it obvious what had happened!"

"And that is how Bill made Head Boy," said Charlie, grinning.

"How did you get Head Boy?" George said. "You guys were just as bad as us!"

"Because I, my dear brother, did not get caught, like you do," said Bill.

Fred and George looked amusedly outraged.

"How dare you!"

"Preposterous!"

"Got any other stories?" asked Ginny keenly.

"Hmm," Bill said in thought. "Well, there was that one time when me and my friend Archie went on a midnight stroll."

"Midnight stroll?" asked Ron.

"We were hungry," said Bill. "Anyway, we were walking along the third floor and you know, Mrs Norris turns up at the end of the hallway, so we obviously panicked - we were in fourth year - so we ran off, not really knowing where we were going, and we found ourselves in this different chamber that we hadn't been before - and I mean, seriously, we had walked round that school hundreds of times - and ..."

"I think it's time for bed," came the voice of Mrs Weasley.

They all groaned.

"C'mon Mum ..."

"Bed," Mrs Weasley scowled. Knowing it was impossible to argue, the five of them went upstairs, scowling at Bill and Charlie's grinning faces.

Ginny and Amara said goodnight to the boys and retreated into Ginny's room.

"Well, now you've my all my family," said Ginny. "Well, the close ones anyways."

"Yeah, they're pretty cool," said Amara. They got into their pyjamas and settled down - Amara under a few blankets and Ginny in her bed.

"Amara, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," said Amara. "Ask away."

"How do you get a boy to like you?"

"What'd you - oh right," Amara realised, knowing this was about Harry. "I - I'm not exactly the best person to ask, Roger wasn't exactly a 'boyfriend' as such."

"He still liked you," Ginny persisted. "That counts."

"Well, I just, I was just myself," said Amara.

"Just 'yourself'?"

"Yeah, it shows who you really are," Amara said. "It's the best thing to do."

"So I should do the same?"

"Yes," said Amara. "You should ask Hermione for advice as well, but be yourself."

"And if it doesn't work?"

"Then he's stupid," said Amara, which made Ginny laugh. "Why don't you date other people for a while?

"What?"

"Well," said Amara. "It might take your mind off it - and you know, maybe it'll help, he'll get to know you better."

"I - I suppose so," said Ginny.

"Good, because that's the best advice I've ever given," Amara said. "Be grateful, it'll probably never come again."


	5. Friends' Arrivals

**_A/N Sorry for the delay - moved into my auntie's empty house because our house is unavailable at the moment, and everything's been a little hectic! Here's chapter five and THANK YOU so much for all the lovely reviews! They made me so happy! Shoutout to all those Guest reviewers - thank you very much! And as for the last one who reviewed: [question about Amara, Roger and Fred] I never thought of that before! Sounds cool, I didn't actually think of it at the time! Anyways, viola and enjoy! xxx_**

**_Chapter Five_**

**_Friends' Arrivals_**

_Dear Harry,_

_GUESS WHAT? WE GOT TICKETS! FOR THE WORLD CUP! Well, Mr Weasley did, and extra for me, you and Hermione! Ireland versus Bulgaria – _Ron snatched the quill off of Amara **_Monday night! _**Amara snatched it back _Bugger off Ron. Mrs Weasley has written to your Aunt and Uncle, and it should be there by now, I had to stop her from putting loads and loads of stamps on – she didn't realise it was only one. __**But we decided to write this anyway, Pig needed something to do. We're coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can't miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon its better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we'll come and get you at five o'clock on Sunday anyway. **__Hermione's arriving this afternoon; I arrived last week. __**Percy's started work — the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Don't mention anything about Abroad while you're here unless you want the pants bored off you. **__It's true, I've had to avoid him the entire time._

_Love from _

_Amara & __**Ron**_

Amara swatted Ron's hand away as she put the letter on Pig.

"Leave it alone!"

"I don't want it to say '_Love from'_!" Ron said.

"Don't be so immature," said Amara exasperatedly. "I'm not changing it."

Ron scowled.

"Don't scowl at me," said Amara. "You've got to help me and Ginny put another bed in her room _and _another bed in _your _room, which is going to be squishy because of Fred and George."

Ron groaned.

"Why did I let you stay?"

"You love me," said Amara, flouncing out the room, dodging around Charlie who had just come into the kitchen after a shower. Over the few days that the two brothers had arrived, Amara had bonded well with Charlie, and they were now good friends. He was funny, like the twins, but a little less so, and more in his own way.

Squeezing another bed in Ginny's already tiny room was no easy feat. Amara and Ron had the task of placing the bed in the room, because Ginny was helping Mrs Weasley. They had to decide how to fit all the other beds in it as well.

"Move it left!" huffed Amara, straining to keep the mattress up.

"It won't move!"

"It must do, it can't move this way either!" Amara said, trying to move it.

Five minutes later and they had given up completely. They lay on the mattress that was half up the wall and squished on Ginny's bed.

"This isn't going to work, is it?" said Amara.

"No," said Ron. "I think this mattress is stuck as well."

"What are you two doing?" asked Charlie from the doorway.

"Failing to organise the room," said Amara. "Care to join?"

"You know, there is an easy way to do it," said Charlie.

"What?" said Amara and Ron.

"Get up and I'll show you," said Charlie.

Amara and Ron got up and stood by him at the door. Charlie got out his wand and waved it, casting as spell that made everything in the room hop into the air and swivel around in a circle.

"Charlie!" yelped Amara as the desk nearly hit her head.

"Sorry," said Charlie and he stopped waving his wand, leaving the room with a perfectly laid out room in front of them.

"I need to learn that spell."

"It's basically just a more powerful levitation charm," said Charlie, and he walked off down the stairs, whistling as he did so.

-OOOOO-

"_Hermione!" _Amara grinned brightly, dragging the unfortunate girl through the door and hugging her tightly. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

"Hello Amara," Hermione said, grinning too. "How are you?"

"Fine thanks, had a good holiday?" Amara said, leading her into the kitchen.

"Yes, thanks," said Hermione and she then had to greet the rest of the Weasleys.

"This is Bill and Charlie," said Ron as the two older men came forward.

"Pleased to meet you," said Bill, shaking her hand.

"You can dump your stuff in my room Hermione," said Ginny from the kitchen table.

"I'll show you where it is," said Amara and she led her upstairs, Ron trailing behind.

"How long have you been here for?" asked Hermione.

"About a week – well, a week tomorrow," said Amara. "What about you, what have you been doing all summer?"

"Keeping up with my work, of course," said Hermione. "You two have as well, haven't you?"

Amara and Ron shared a glance.

"It's OWLs in fifth year!" Hermione warned.

"Precisely," said Ron. "_Fifth Year." _

"When's Harry getting here?" asked Hermione, ignoring Ron.

"Tomorrow, around five," said Ron.

"How's he getting here?" asked Hermione. "Surely you can't drive all the way there?"

"I'm not sure," said Ron. "I should ask Dad."

The three friends walked back downstairs and into the kitchen.

"Where's Dad?" asked Ron to the remaining people in there (Ginny, Bill and Mrs Weasley).

"Outside," said Mrs Weasley vaguely.

They found Mr Weasley in the garage, happily whistling a tune as he fiddled with some muggle plugs and dials.

"Hey Dad," said Ron, alerting their presence.

"What can I do for you?" he said.

"Hermione was wondering how we're getting Harry tomorrow," said Amara.

"Well," said Mr Weasley. "I got the Ministry to connect their fireplace again. I think I'll get you, Fred and George to help collect him, because I'm not sure what his family is like, and I need help with the trunk … and Molly wants you three to help her – do you realise how many people are here?" he laughed. "Have you seen my wand?"

-OOOOO-

The next day crawled by. Everyone in the house was waiting for five o'clock, when they could finally go and retrieve Harry from the Dursleys. Amara was also excited because it was the World Cup the night after, which was what she had been looking forward to for the entire summer.

However instead of just lying around like they would have done, Mrs Weasley got them to de-gnome the garden.

"Harry doesn't care that we have gnomes," groaned Ron as she told them.

"No, but it hasn't been done since the beginning of the holidays! I saw even more crawl in yesterday," said Mrs Weasley.

"What is 'de-gnoming'?" Amara asked.

"Getting the gnomes out of the garden," said Ginny.

"Right," said Amara, trying to remember what a gnome looked like.

She soon found out, though, when Ron shoved one in her face five minutes later.

The gnome was a particularly rude one, using a choice of swear words before Amara smacked it away from her face. It fell on the floor and glared at her in disgust.

"They're horrible!" Amara said. "Do we _have _to do this?"

"Ah, look Bill, they're de-gnoming the garden," said Charlie, grinning.

"Go away or help," snapped Ron.

"We've had lots of experience of this when we were younger," said Bill, also grinning.

"And that helps us how?" asked Ginny.

"It doesn't," said Charlie.

They all groaned.

Mr Weasley, Ron, Fred and George did not leave until ten past five. Mr Weasley was fiddling with the floo, making sure everything was alright, and Mrs Weasley was flitting about as well.

When George finally disappeared from the fireplace, Amara, Hermione and Ginny went upstairs into Ginny's room.

"Harry's coming soon," said Ginny, looking nervous.

"Just be normal," said Amara.

"That's right," said Hermione. "Be yourself."

"That's what Amara said," said Ginny. "But it's _hard." _

"I know," said Amara unconvincingly, looking at Hermione desperately. "Just try your best, okay?"

"You'll be fine, before you know it, Harry will see you for who you are," said Hermione but somehow Amara had a bad feeling. For Harry seemed to have his eyes on Cho Chang, the pretty Ravenclaw girl in the year above.

"Spoken to Jesse recently?" Hermione said, trying to act casual.

"No," said Amara, raising her eyebrows. "I normally write to Jesse. You?"

Hermione flushed red. "Um," she said, uncharacteristically lost for words.

"You seem to be quite _taken _with him," said Ginny, her eyes sparkling.

"I am not!" said Hermione feebly.

Ginny and Amara looked at her.

"Well – what about _you _Amara? Any people you're looking at?"

Amara raised her eyebrows.

"No," she said.

Even Ginny looked at her.

"Seriously?" Ginny said.

"What?"

"You doesn't see it," said Ginny.

"Neither does he," said Hermione.

"What are you talking about!" Amara said. "I'm right here!"

"Nothing," said Ginny sweetly.

"Girls!" Mrs Weasley poked her head around the door. "I think Harry's arrived!"

But as they went down the stairs, they heard Mr Weasley's raised voice.

"You wait until I tell your mother –"

"Tell me what?"

Amara, Hermione and Ginny looked at each other.

"What have they done now?" groaned Ginny.

They entered the kitchen and saw that Harry was standing with the rest of the Weasleys, his hair as messy as ever but he had obviously grown a few inches over the summer. The three of them grinned at Harry and he beamed back, and Amara saw Ginny go red. She refrained herself from stamping on her foot.

"Tell me _what_, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley repeated, in a dangerous sort of voice.

"It's nothing, Molly," mumbled Mr. Weasley, looking slightly anxious. Fred and George looked slightly panicked. "Fred and George just — but I've had words with them —"

"What have they done this time?" said Mrs. Weasley. "If it's got anything to do with _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_ —"

"Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?" said Hermione from the doorway. She had found out about Fred and George's plans the day before and did not find it amusing as Amara had.

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, "in my room, he slept there last —"

"We can all go," said Hermione pointedly.

"Oh," said Ron, cottoning on. "Right."

"Yeah, we'll come too," said George.

_"__You stay where you are!_" snarled Mrs. Weasley.

Harry and Ron edged out of the kitchen, and they all went up the hallway and up the stairs.

"What are _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_?" Harry asked as they climbed.

Amara, Ron and Ginny laughed, although Hermione didn't.

"Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and Georgia's room," Ron explained. "Great long price lists for stuff they've invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they'd been inventing all that . . ."

"We've been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually _making_ things," said Ginny, and Amara was pleased to see that she was speaking normally in the vicinity of Harry. "We thought they just liked the noise."

"But all the stuff was pretty dangerous," said Amara. "It could really do damage, so Mrs Weasley went mad at them –"

"- they didn't get many OWLs either," said Ron.

"And then there was this argument, because they want to open a joke shop and Mrs Weasley –"

"- wants them to join the Ministry," interjected Ron again and Amara rolled her eyes. "Like Dad."

But the door opened just then to an annoyed looking Percy. Amara hid behind Ron so that he wouldn't notice her.

"Hi, Percy," said Harry.

"Oh hello, Harry," said Percy. "I was wondering who was making all the noise. I'm trying to work in here, you know — I've got a report to finish for the office — and it's rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up the stairs."

"We're not _thundering," _snapped Ron. "We're _walking. _Sorry if we've disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic."

"What are you working on?" asked Harry and Amara supressed a groan.

"A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation," said Percy, looking extremely smug. "We're trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin - leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year -"

"That'll change the world, that report will," said Ron. "Front page of the _Daily Prophet_, I expect, cauldron leaks."

Percy went slightly pink.

"You might sneer, Ron," he said heatedly, "but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow bottomed products that seriously endanger -"

"Yeah, yeah, all right," said Ron, and he started off upstairs again. Percy slammed his bedroom door shut. Amara, Harry, Hermione and Ginny followed him up, Amara knowing the stairs by heart now, and remembering when to dodge the edges of the rickety stairs. Just as they were about to enter Ron's room (marked '_Ronald's Room) _shouts echoed up the staircase. It looked as though Mr Weasley had given in and told Mrs Weasley about what Fred and George did.

Pig was, as usual, being an annoying flea and jumping around the cage.

"Shut _up_, Pig," said Ron, edging his way between two of the four beds that had been squeezed into the room, courtesy of Amara, Ron, Fred and George's efforts (Mrs Weasley decided they should do it themselves without help). "Fred and George are in here with us, because Bill and Charlie are in their room," he told Harry. "Percy gets to keep his room all to himself because he's got to _work_."

"Er - why are you calling that owl Pig?" Harry asked Ron.

"Because he's being stupid," said Ginny, "Its proper name is Pigwidgeon." Amara snorted.

"Yeah, and that's not a stupid name at all," said Ron sarcastically. "Ginny named him," he explained to Harry. "She reckons it's sweet. And I tried to change it, but it was too late, he won't answer to anything else. So now he's Pig. I've got to keep him up here because he annoys Errol and Hermes. He annoys me too, come to that."

Pigwidgeon zoomed happily around his cage, hooting shrilly. Amara sat down on one of the beds and made herself comfortable.

"Where's Crookshanks?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Out in the garden, I expect," she said. "He likes chasing gnomes. He's never seen any before."

"Percy's enjoying work, then?" said Harry, sitting down on another one of the beds and watching the Chudley Cannons zooming in and out of the posters on the ceiling.

"Enjoying it?" said Ron darkly. "I don't reckon he'd come home if Dad didn't make him. He's obsessed. Just don't get him onto the subject of his boss. _According to Mr. Crouch… as I was saying to Mr. Crouch… Mr. Crouch is of the opinion… Mr. Crouch was telling me…_ They'll be announcing their engagement any day now."

"And he writes to my Uncle a lot – the one from France, because he's in the same department over there," said Amara. "Will _not _stop asking me questions."

"Have you had a good summer, Harry?" said Hermione. "Did you get our food parcels and everything?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," said Harry. "They saved my life, those cakes."

"And have you heard from -?" Ron began, but at a look from Hermione he fell silent. Amara, Ron and Hermione had finally been able to discuss the subject of Sirius the night before – when all the other Weasley's had been distracted. Speaking about it in front of Ginny would be a big mistake, considering the world still thought he was a criminal.

"I think they've stopped arguing," said Hermione, changing the subject and trying to distract Ginny from looking curiously at them. "Shall we go down and help your mum with dinner?"

"Yeah, all right," said Ron. The four of them left Ron's room and went back downstairs to find Mrs. Weasley alone in the kitchen, looking extremely bad-tempered. Amara did not wish to stay in the kitchen for too long.

"We're eating out in the garden," she said when they came in. "There's just not room for twelve people in here. Could you take the plates outside, girls? Bill and Charlie are setting up the tables. Knives and forks, please, you two," she said to Ron and Harry, pointing her wand a little more vigorously than she had intended at a pile of potatoes in the sink, which shot out of their skins so fast that they ricocheted off the walls and ceiling.

Amara, Hermione and Ginny grabbed the three stacks of plates and left before anything else happened.

They walked carefully round to where the others were, but found it impossible for them to place the plates on the table for Bill and Charlie had just levitated them in the air and decided to play a game with them. Amara started laughing and put her plates down on the floor. Ginny followed suit, both of them going nearer so that they could cheer them on with Fred and George.

Amara saw Hermione put her plates down too, but hover near the hedge instead of joining them. She could see that even though she didn't approve, she found it slightly funny as well. Amara, deciding she needed some fun, dragged her over so she could cheer too.

Not two minutes later and Harry and Ron came round the side, both of them laughing at what they saw. Bill's table hit Charlie's hard, successfully smashing the leg off of it. There was a bang and Percy's head popped out the window.

"Will you keep it down?!" he bellowed at them.

"Sorry, Perce," said Bill, grinning. "How're the cauldron bottoms coming on?"

"Very badly," said Percy irritably, and he slammed the window shut with a slam. Chuckling, Bill and Charlie directed the tables safely onto the grass, end to end, and then, with a flick of his wand, Bill reattached the table leg and conjured tablecloths from nowhere. Amara, Hermione and Ginny started forwards so they could lay the plates on the table. The tables were just about big enough for twelve of them to sit on, and in no time at all, Bill and Charlie had found two other things to fight with in the air, just less noisy as the tables.

-OOOOO-

At seven o'clock, the Weasley family plus Amara, Harry and Hermione were sat at the table, looking at the excellent dishes placed on the table in front of them. Amara, who was a fan of Mrs Weasley's cooking, dug in straight away.

Amara, who had sat at the furthest away from Percy, involved herself with the conversation that Charlie, Fred and George were having.

"What you've got to do, is hide all this stuff _before _Mum finds it," Charlie was saying. "Or else she'll just get mad at you again."

"What's the point," said Fred. "We can't do much now anyway, not without those Order Forms – she burnt the _whole lot of them. _And we need money to afford all the stuff …"

"You need a sponsor," said Amara.

"What's a sponsor?" asked George.

"A person who sponsor's you – if they're impressed, they'll give you money," said Amara. "But you'd need someone impressive, so it'll be hard – or get donations from people."

"Or win the Galleon prize draw," said Charlie. "That'll get you money."

Eventhough Amara was tuning out Percy, should couldn't help but overhear when he directed his speech towards them.

"…as you know, we've got another big event to organize right after the World Cup." He said. "_You_ know the one I'm talking about, Father." He raised his voice slightly, so they could definitely heard them. "The top-secret one."

Ron rolled his eyes and muttered to Amara, Harry and Hermione, "He's been trying to get us to ask what that event is ever since he started work. Probably an exhibition of thick-bottomed cauldrons."

"I'm glad he never did that with _me," _said Amara. "I would've knocked him one."

Ron grinned at her.

Trying to see where Bill was, because he always had exciting stories to tell, Amara overheard his conversation with Mrs Weasley and Ginny, who was sat next to him.

"… with a horrible great fang on it. Really, Bill, what do they say at the bank?" Mrs Weasley was saying, talking about his earring.

"Mum, no one at the bank gives a damn how I dress as long as I bring home plenty of treasure," said Bill patiently.

"And your hair's getting silly, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, fingering her wand lovingly." I wish you'd let me give it a trim…"

"I like it," said Ginny, who was sitting beside Bill. "You're so old-fashioned, Mum. Anyway, it's nowhere near as long as Professor Dumbledore's…"

Next to Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Charlie were now all talking spiritedly about the World Cup.

"It's got to be Ireland," said Charlie thickly, through a mouthful of potato. "They flattened Peru in the semi-finals."

"Bulgaria have got Viktor Krum, though," said Fred.

"Krum's one decent player, Ireland has got seven," said Charlie shortly. "I wish England had got through. That was embarrassing, that was."

"What happened?" said Harry eagerly, and Amara chimed in too, not really reading the sports section of the _Daily Prophet. _

"Went down to Transylvania, three hundred and ninety to ten," said Charlie gloomily. "Shocking performance. And Wales lost to Uganda, and Scotland were slaughtered by Luxembourg."

"Awful," groaned Amara, "What about France, though?"

"They got to the quarter-finals," said Charlie. "But lost a tight game with Poland – 370 to 380."

"Jesse, Noah and Tally will be gutted then," said Amara.

Mr. Weasley conjured up candles to light the darkening garden before they had their pudding (homemade strawberry ice cream), and by the time they had finished, moths were fluttering low over the table, and the warm air was perfumed with the smells of grass and honeysuckle.

Ron looked carefully up the table to check that the rest of the family were all busy talking, then he said very quietly to Harry, "So - have you heard from Sirius lately?"

Amara and Hermione looked around, listening closely.

"Yeah," said Harry softly, "twice. He sounds okay. I wrote to him yesterday. He might write back while I'm here."

Harry looked thoughtful for a second, but then relaxed again. Amara was pleased he'd kept in contact – it was good to know how Sirius was doing.

"Look at the time," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly, checking her wristwatch. "You really should be in bed, the whole lot of you you'll be up at the crack of dawn to get to the Cup. Harry, if you leave your school list out, I'll get your things for you tomorrow in Diagon Alley. I'm getting everyone else's. There might not be time after the World Cup, the match went on for five days last time."

"Wow - hope it does this time!" said Harry enthusiastically, and Amara agreed.

"Well, I certainly don't," said Percy sanctimoniously. "I shudder to think what the state of my inbox tray would be if I was away from work for five days."

"Yeah, someone might slip dragon dung in it again, eh, Perce?" said Fred.

"That was a sample of fertilizer from Norway!" said Percy, going rather red in the face. "It was nothing personal!"

"It was," Amara heard Fred whisper to Harry as they left the table to go inside. "We sent it."


	6. The Portkey

**_A/N Thank you so much for all the reviews - and thanks for all the Guest reviews as well, It's a shame I can't reply to you guys :( And to answer your question, Guest, I update whenever I have a chapter ready xD Varies all the time, I'm afraid, though I _****try********_to update at least once a week :) Enjoy - xxx_**

**_Chapter Six_**

**_The Portkey_**

Amara had a satisfying night's sleep before Mrs Weasley woke her up at the crack of dawn the next day. She heard her move on to Ginny and Hermione before leaving the room, letting Amara give out a groan.

"This shouldn't even be allowed," she moaned into her pillow as Ginny and Hermione also groaned after seeing that it was still dark outside.

"I refuse," said Ginny and two minutes later she was dozing again.

"Her – her – her – _Hermione," _yawned Amara. "Can you draw the curtains?"

"What's the point?" Hermione said, rubbing her eyes. "It'll make no difference."

Instead, she lit the lamps, which made Ginny protest angrily, throwing her pillow in a random direction, hoping it would hit one of them. It missed by a mile, and then Ginny got annoyed that she didn't have a pillow, so she stole Hermione's instead. After that, they heard no sound from her.

"Why do you think we have to get up so _early?" _said Hermione.

"I don't know," Amara said, trying to stop yawning, and Hermione went out of the room to get herself washed up properly, Amara, however, couldn't be bothered.

There was a sharp rap on the door and she awoke with a start. Ginny groaned as Mrs Weasley's voice rang through the door.

"Girls, you've got to get up now, or you'll be late!"

Ginny kicked off her duvet in frustration as Hermione came back in, looking fresher than both of them together, yet still rather drowsy. Ginny's duvet landed on Hermione as she bent down to pick up her own bag, making the older girl jump in surprise.

Amara, too tired to laugh, dragged on some jeans, T Shirt and jacket that she had laid out the night before. She got her stuff in her rucksack that she was going to take with her on the trip before waiting for Ginny to get herself ready.

After much yawning and stretching, the three girls made their way down the stairs and into the hallway, where they shoved their bags and made their way into the kitchen.

"Why do we have to get up so early?" Ginny said, rubbing her eyes.

"We've got a bit of a walk," said Mr Weasley.

"Walk?" said Harry. "What, are we walking to the World Cup?"

"No, no, that's miles away," said Mr. Weasley, smiling as Amara started her breakfast. She was too tired to start talking, so she listened instead. "We only need to walk a short way. It's just that it's very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup —"

"George!" said Mrs. Weasley sharply, and they all jumped, Amara splashing herself with milk and groaning.

"What?" said George, in an innocent tone that deceived nobody.

"What is that in your pocket?" demanded Mrs Weasley.

"Nothing!" George said hastily.

"Don't you lie to me!"

Mrs. Weasley pointed her wand at George's pocket and said,

"_Accio!"_

Out of George's pocket zoomed fife small objects in bright orange, purple, green and red. George tried to grab them but failed, and they fell into Mrs Weasley's hand. Amara watched with the others, slightly more awake than she had been before.

"We told you to destroy them!" said Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what were unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees, the same ones as the one Dudley had eaten (Harry had informed them of it the night before). "We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!"

Fred and George had tried to get as many of the Ton-Tongue Toffees out of the house as they could, obviously with the intent of selling them to the unsuspecting wizards and witches at the Quidditch World Cup. Mrs Weasley was finding them all with the summoning charm she was using.

"_Accio! Accio! Accio_!" she shouted, and toffees zoomed from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George's jacket and the turn-ups of Fred's jeans.

"We spent six months developing those!" Fred shouted at his mother as she threw the toffees away into the bin.

"Oh a fine way to spend six months!" she shrieked. "No wonder you didn't get more O.W.L.s!"

After that, breakfast was a rather quiet affair, not unlike the first night Amara has arrived at the Weasley's. Mrs Weasley was still boiling when they got their rucksacks from the hallway and bid their farewells. As Mrs Weasley was too busy glowering at the twins (who, in turn, has picked their rucksacks up and walked out the door with no word of goodbye) she didn't notice when Amara slipped the toffees from the bin into her pocket.

She bid a hurried goodbye to Mrs Weasley before rushing to catch up with the twins who were already half way across the yard.

"Well, have a lovely time," said Mrs Weasley, from behind Amara. "and _behave your- selves,_" she called after the twins, who didn't acknowledge her. "I'll send Bill, Charlie, and Percy along around midday," Mrs Weasley said.

It was chilly and the moon was still out whilst Amara was crossing the yard. She had never been up so early before, and there was a slight tinge to the horizon where the sun would soon break through the barrier. It was hard to make out everything, but she soon caught up with the twins.

"Oi," she said as they walked quickly. "Slow down a sec."

Fred and George grudgingly slowed their walk to Amara-paced.

"What?"

"No need to be rude," said Amara, reaching into her pocket. "Not when I've just done a really nice thing for you." She showed them the toffees.

Fred and George looked at them for a second.

"When -?"

"How -?"

"Your mum was preoccupied," said Amara. "I couldn't let six months go to waste."

"You," began George, a familiar grin forming on his face. "Have we ever told you that you're our favourite person in the world?"

"Nope," said Amara, grinning.

"Well we have now," said Fred and he picked her up in a hug, spinning her around before placing her - and her beating heart - onto the ground.

Fred and George put their arms around her and walked on as the others caught up with them. They seemed to know where they were going, and Amara realised they were going down the track towards the village.

"How are we getting there?" Amara asked.

"Portkey," said Fred. "We're going to Stoadstead Hill to get it - that's the hill after the village." He said, pointing to the black mound that surrounded the back of Ottery St Catchpole.

"Anyone else getting it with us?" Amara asked as they began to walk down the lane towards the village.

"Don't know yet," said George and a comfortable silence fell between the group of eight, all of them listening to the rhythmic sounds of their footsteps echoing around their ears. The darkness lightened by a small amount as the sun itched its way towards the horizon, turning the inky black sky into a deep, midnight blue. Amara was very cold whilst they walked through the village, she shivered through her jacket, her breath coming out in clouds as she watched the closed, dark shops and houses that lined the main road. They passed the lonely cottage before beginning their climb up the large hill.

It was tough work climbing the hill, Amara kept slipping over on the wet grass and tripping on rabbit holes. In the end, Fred and George grabbed her rucksack and hoisted her to the top, so that she didn't fall over completely.

"Whew," panted Mr Weasley, when, at last, they reached level ground. He took off his glasses and wiped them on his jumper. "Well, we've made good time — we've got ten minutes. . . ."

Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.

"Now we just need the Portkey," said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big. . . . Come on . . ."

Amara and the others spread about, searching for the Portkey. Amara did not know what she was looking for – she just knew it was going to be an item that looked like regular rubbish to Muggles. Then, after a few minutes, a shout echoed through the air.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!"

Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop from where they were.

"Amos!" said Mr Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed hastily.

Mr Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a mouldy-looking old boot in his other hand.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone," said Mr Weasley. "He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was the Seeker and Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team – he was, tall, handsome, popular and smart. Amara, Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances once seeing him, trying not to giggle.

"Hi," said Cedric, looking around at them all.

Everyone greeted him back – Fred and George only doing so when Amara crushed their ribs with her elbow, because they just did stern nods. She knew it was because Hufflepuff had beat them in Quidditch the year before. They glared at her, rubbing their sides, but Amara glared back, successfully winning.

"Long walk, Arthur?" Cedric's father asked.

"Not too bad," replied Mr Weasley. "We live just on the other side of the village there. You?"

"Had to get up at two, didn't we, Ced? I tell you, I'll be glad when he's got his Apparition test. Still . . . not complaining . . . Quidditch World Cup, wouldn't miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. . . ." Amos Diggory peered around at the others – the three Weasley boys, Amara, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny. "All these yours, Arthur?"

"Oh no, only the redheads," said Mr Weasley, pointing out Fred, George, Ron and Ginny. "This is Amara, Ron's friend – and Hermione, another friend of Ron's — and Harry, the other friend —"

"Merlin's beard," said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening and Amara refrained herself from groaning. "Harry? Harry Potter?"

"Er — yeah," said Harry.

He looked slightly peeved at the fact he had been pointed out from the others. Amara couldn't blame him, considering everyone was always glancing at his forehead, itching to get a glimpse of the famous scar on it.

"Ced's talked about you, of course," said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing against you last year. . . . I said to him, I said — Ced, that'll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. . . . _You beat Harry Potter_!"

Harry did not reply to this comment. Fred and George were both scowling again and Amara was now scowling too. Who did this man think he was? Cedric looked slightly embarrassed.

"Harry fell off his broom, Dad," he muttered. "I told you . . . it was an accident. . . ."

"Yes, but you didn't fall off, did you?" roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. "Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman . . . but the best man won, I'm sure Harry'd say the same, wouldn't you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don't need to be a genius to tell which one's the better flier!"

"I personally think it depends if you've _seen them both fly," _said Amara shortly and Fred and George smirked at her. Amos blinked, his ruddy cheeks going slightly darker, ready to comment back. Cedric looked at her too, looking surprised.

"Must be nearly time," said Mr Weasley quickly, drawing the tension away and pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for any more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets," said Mr Diggory, turning away from Amara and looking at Mr Weasley instead. "There aren't any more of us in this area, are there?"

"Not that I know of," said Mr Weasley. "Yes, it's a minute off. . . . We'd better get ready. . . ."

He looked around at Amara, Harry and Hermione, who all looked unsure about what they were going to do.

"You just need to touch the Portkey, that's all, a finger will do —"

The group of ten crowded around the mouldy boot that Mr Diggory (who was avoiding Amara now) held out before him. It was very difficult, considering they were all wearing large backpacks. Their tight little circle was scuffed by a chilly breeze as they waited on the hill top. It was an odd sight if anyone saw, people standing around awkwardly, not speaking, and holding a dirty boot. The minute seemed to stretch into at least five.

"Three . . ." muttered Mr Weasley, one eye still on his watch, "two . . . one . . ."

As soon as Mr Weasley said 'one' Amara felt as though her navel was being pulled forwards into the boot. Her feet came off the floor – she kept hitting Hermione and Ginny, who were both either side of her and the finger that was touching the boot would not move, it was like it was stuck with super glue. Around them was a swirl of bright colours, but before she could get used to the sensation she felt her feet slam onto solid ground. She fell over sideways, her and Ginny lying in a heap. Amara groaned and sat up, getting her legs out of Ginny's way. Everyone except Mr Weasley, Amos and Cedric Diggory were lying in a heap on the floor, groaning slightly. The boot – Portkey – lay next to Harry's head on the floor.

"_Seven past five from Stoadshead Hill," _said a voice from above them. Amara squinted her eyes and realised that they were, instead of on a hill, on a very misty moor, with two very tired and grumpy wizards standing near them.


	7. A Nice Surprise

**_A/N Thank you for all the reviews! They make me veeery happy:) Longer chapter this time - got a bit carried away, but oh well! Hope you enjoy xxx_**

**_Chapter Seven_**

**_A Nice Surprise_**

It was difficult getting up with a rucksack on her back, Amara looked like a turtle hopelessly trying to get up the right way before she managed to get to her feet. The two wizards standing near them were holding a large golden clock, parchment and a quill.

Their clothing was rather strange, however, as it seemed they had tried to look like Muggles but failed. One of them was in a tweed suit and thigh-high galoshes whilst the other one was faring worse: he wore a kilt and a poncho.

Mr Weasley seemed to know who they were, for he walked up to them happily.

"Morning, Basil," said Mr Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him. Amara shifted her rucksack on her back so it was in a more comfortable position, standing with the others a meter away from Mr Weasley, Basil and the tweed suit wizard, unsure what to do.

"Hello there, Arthur," said Basil wearily. "Not on duty, eh? It's all right for some. . . . We've been here all night. . . . You'd better get out of the way, we've got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five-fifteen. Hang on, I'll find your campsite. . . . Weasley . . .Weasley . . ." He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a mile's walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager's called Mr Roberts. Diggory . . . second field . . . ask for Mr Payne."

"Thanks, Basil," said Mr Weasley, and he motioned everyone to follow him.

The mist on the moor was too dense for any scenery or landmarks to pop out to them. They walked for about twenty minutes before they found anything: a small, white stone cottage shifted into view, with nothing but a garden and a gate leading to hundreds upon hundreds tent shaped shadows, up a gentle slope and stopping before a dark wood that was above the horizon. The Diggorys carried on their way as the party of eight made their way to the cottage door.

At the door of the cottage was a man – who was definitely a Muggle this time. As they approached, he turned his head towards them.

"Morning!" said Mr Weasley brightly.

"Morning," said the man.

"Would you be Mr Roberts?"

"Aye, I would," said Mr Roberts. "And who're you?"

"Weasley — two tents, booked a couple of days ago?"

"Aye," said Mr Roberts, consulting a list tacked to the door next to him.

"You've got a space up by the wood there. Just the one night?"

"That's it," said Mr Weasley.

"You'll be paying now, then?" said Mr Roberts.

"Ah — right — certainly —" said Mr Weasley. He retreated a short distance from the cottage and beckoned Harry toward him. "

Amara watched as Mr Weasley unrolled a lot of money from his pocket.

"What's that?" whispered Ginny to Amara.

"It's Muggle Money," said Amara, out of earshot of Mr Roberts, who was peering round at them all.

"Why is it on little bits of paper? Don't you lose them?" asked Ginny.

"I dunno, but it's normal, really, for us," said Amara.

"You foreign?" said Mr Roberts as Mr. Weasley returned with the correct notes.

"Foreign?" repeated Mr Weasley, looking rather puzzled.

"You're not the first one who's had trouble with money," said Mr Roberts, scrutinizing Mr Weasley closely. "I had two try and pay me with great gold coins the size of hubcaps ten minutes ago."

"Did you really?" said Mr Weasley nervously.

Mr Roberts rummaged around in a tin for some change.

"Never been this crowded," he said suddenly, looking out over the misty field again. "Hundreds of pre-bookings. People usually just turn up. . . ."

"Is that right?" said Mr Weasley, his hand held out for his change, but Mr Roberts didn't give it to him. Amara looked at the others in confusion, who all looked back at her in the same way.

"Aye," he said thoughtfully. "People from all over. Loads of foreigners. And not just foreigners. Weirdos, you know? There's a bloke walking 'round in a kilt and a poncho."

"Shouldn't he?" said Mr. Weasley anxiously, and Amara nearly groaned. It really was surprising how little the wizarding community knew about the Muggle one, considering how they mixed in all the time _and _that the muggles had no idea of their secret society.

"It's like some sort of . . . I dunno . . . like some sort of rally," said Mr Roberts. "They all seem to know each other. Like a big party."

At that moment, a wizard in plus-fours appeared out of thin air next to Mr Roberts's front door.

_"__Obliviate!"_ he said sharply, pointing his wand at Mr Roberts. Instantly, Mr Roberts's eyes slid out of focus, his brows unknitted, and a look of dreamy unconcern fell over his face. The spell was a Memory Charm – Mr Roberts no longer knew what he was just talking about.

"A map of the campsite for you," Mr Roberts said placidly to Mr Weasley. "And your change."

"Thanks very much," said Mr Weasley.

The wizard who had put a memory charm on Mr Roberts walked with them to the gate leading to the slope of tents. The man looked shattered, he had bags under his eyes and his chin was turning blue with stubble. Once out of earshot of Mr Roberts, he muttered to Mr Weasley,

"Been having a lot of trouble with him. Needs a Memory Charm ten times a day to keep him happy. And Ludo Bagman's not helping. Trotting around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, not a worry about anti-Muggle security. Blimey, I'll be glad when this is over. See you later, Arthur."

He Disapparated once they reached the gate.

"I thought Mr Bagman was Head of Magical Games and Sports," said Ginny, looking a bit surprised. "He should know better than to talk about Bludgers near Muggles, shouldn't he?"

"He should," said Mr Weasley, smiling, and leading them through the gates into the campsite, "but Ludo's always been a bit . . . well . . . _lax_ about security. You couldn't wish for a more enthusiastic head of the sports department though. He played Quidditch for England himself, you know. And he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had."

There was more walking to be done before they reached their tent – they had to walk up the slope, through the rows upon rows of tents. The tents looked like normal in some rows, however the wizards in some had added chimneys, bellpulls and weather vanes on some, which made Amara laugh.

Meanwhile, some tents could not pass for Muggle at all. It was no wonder Mr Roberts had to have so many memory charms: one tent was like a miniature palace, made of silk, and included several peacocks in the entrance. Another tent had three floors and turrets, which began the game between Harry and Amara, of who could spot the least-Muggle tent, bemusing the Weasley's to no end. Harry spotted one that had a garden attached to it – complete with a birdbath, fountain and a sundial. Amara saw one with a wooden front door and path leading to it, including a window with a colourful flower box. Another was one which looked like a blow up bouncy castle, with four tall towers.

"Always the same," said Mr. Weasley, smiling as they walked past it. "We can't resist showing off when we get together. Ah, here we are, look, this is us." They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty space, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read _'Weezly'_.

"Couldn't have a better spot!" said Mr. Weasley happily. "The field is just on the other side of the wood there, we're as close as we could be." He hoisted his backpack from his shoulders and onto the floor. "Right," he said excitedly, "no magic allowed, strictly speaking, not when we're out in these numbers on Muggle land. We'll be putting these tents up by hand! Shouldn't be too difficult. . . . Muggles do it all the time. . . . Here, Harry, where do you reckon we should start?"

Amara had been camping many times before. She had gone with her family in Cornwall many times, and also with just her, Ethan, Sara and Poppy in the back garden, so she was very used to putting up a tent. She joined Harry (who looked unsure) and Hermione into sorting out the poles and pegs. Mr Weasley tried to help but got too over-excited when they brought out the mallet for them to use, so he just got in the way. In not much time, they managed to put up two shabby tents, both of which were rather small.

The only problem was, Amara thought as they all admired the tents, that after Bill, Charlie and Percy arrived, eleven people would not fit in a pair of two-man tents. Harry and Hermione were looking puzzled as well, obviously thinking the same thing as Mr Weasley crouched on the floor and entered the first tent.

"We'll be a bit cramped," he called, "but I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look."

Amara walked in (she only had to duck a little bit) into the tent after Harry and was amazed at what she saw. Instead of a normal tent, the tent was a full-furnished, old-fashioned, three roomed flat: it even had a kitchen and bathroom inside, all fully functional.

It looked slightly like her Grandmother's living room, and smelled of cats, especially on the mixed-matched chairs in the lounge.

"Wow," breathed Amara.

"Well, it's not for long," said Mr. Weasley, mopping his bald patch with a handkerchief and peering in at the four bunk beds that stood in the bedroom. "I borrowed this from Perkins at the office. Doesn't camp much anymore, poor fellow, he's got lumbago."

He picked up the dusty kettle that sat on the side and peered inside it. "We'll need water. . . ."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us," said Ron, who had followed Amara into the tent and seemed rather unimpressed by its magical alterations. "It's on the other side of the field."

"Well, why don't you, Harry, Amara and Hermione go and get us some water then" — Mr. Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans — "and the rest of us will get some wood for a fire?"

"But we've got an oven," said Ron. "Why can't we just —"

"Ron, anti-Muggle security!" said Mr. Weasley, his face shining with anticipation and excitement. "When real Muggles camp, they cook on fires outdoors. I've seen them at it!"

After a quick tour of the girls' tent, which they found was smaller, with only three single beds and luckily without the smell of cats, Amara had noted. Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off across the campsite with the kettle and saucepans towards the direction of the tap. The campsite was clearer now the fog was cleared and the sun had risen properly. Amara could now see even more unusual tents than before, which she pointed out with glee.

Contrary to when they were walking towards the camp, the tents were starting to come alive as the morning became later. Families with small children seemed to be rising first – tiny little witches and wizards ran around their gardens and Amara had never seen them so young before. One boy in particular was sat outside a purple pyramid-shaped tent was poking a slug happily that he had found in the grass with a wand. It was slowly expanding to the size of a salami. The mother came hurrying out as they drew level with then tent.

"_How_ many times, Kevin? You_ don't — touch — Daddy's — wand — yecchh!"_

She had trodden on the giant slug, which had burst. Her scolding carried after them on the still air, mingling with the little boy's yells — "You bust slug! You bust slug!" Amara snorted with laughter as they hurried on.

There were two little witches a short way up, nearly the same age as the boy, Kevin, and were riding on tiny little broomsticks, that rose up and let their feet skim the wet grass.

A Ministry wizard had already spotted them; as he hurried past Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione he muttered distractedly, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in, I suppose —"

Adult wizards and witches were now emerging from their tents, ready to cook breakfast. Some of them just cast a spell to make their fires, but others looked frustrated in their hope of lighting a match. Three African wizards sat in long white robes and were roasting a rabbit on a purple fire, whilst speaking to each other in a serious conversation; a crowd of middle-aged American witches sat together outside their tents, with a banner with the words: '_The Salem Witches' Institute'_, stretched out above their heads. It was surprising to see so many foreign wizards and witches in one place as they walked – there were so many different languages as they passed – Amara could only make out the snippets of French being spoken – and it was amazing to see them all together.

Er — is it my eyes, or has everything gone green?" said Ron.

They had entered a patch of tents that were like little hills instead of tents. The people inside all seemed rather excited as they passed the shamrock covered tents. However when they were passing through, their names were called out being them.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione! Amara!"

Seamus Finnigan, with his familiar grin, was sat outside his shamrock-covered tent, right next to his best friend, Dean Thomas, both in their year in Gryffindor. By them, was a sandy-haired woman, tall and slightly intimidating, that had to be Seamus' mother.

"Like the decorations?" said Seamus, grinning. "The Ministry's not too happy."

"Ah, why shouldn't we show our colours?" said Mrs Finnigan. "You should see what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over _their_ tents. You'll be supporting Ireland, of course?" she added, eyeing Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione beadily. When they had assured her that they were indeed supporting Ireland, they set off again, though, as Ron said, "Like we'd say anything else surrounded by that lot."

"They'd smother us with shamrocks," Amara nodded.

"I wonder what the Bulgarians have got dangling all over their tents?" said Hermione.

"Let's go and have a look," said Harry, pointing to a large patch of tents up field, where the Bulgarian flag — white, green, and red — was fluttering in the breeze.

The tents here had not been bedecked with plant life, but each and every one of them had the same poster attached to it, a poster of a very surly face with heavy black eyebrows. The picture was, of course, moving, but all it did was blink and scowl. Amara did not know who it was on there, so she just blinked at it.

"Krum," said Ron quietly.

"What?" said Hermione.

"Bless you," said Amara.

"Krum!" said Ron. "Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian Seeker!"

"He looks really grumpy," said Hermione, looking around at themany Krums blinking and scowling at them.

"'_Really grumpy_ '?" Ron raised his eyes to the heavens as though it was a personal insult. "Who cares what he looks like? He's unbelievable. He's really young too. Only just eighteen or something. He's a _genius_, you wait until tonight, you'll see."

"Hopefully," said Amara, agreeing with Hermione.

The tap in the corner had a queue already when they joined it. The people in front were two men who seemed to be having some sort of argument. A ministry wizard was in despair, holding a pair of pin-striped trousers and was trying to get the second wizard, a very old man, to put them on instead of wearing a long flowery nightgown.

"Just put them on, Archie, there's a good chap. You can't walk around like that, the Muggle at the gate's already getting suspicious —"

"I bought this in a Muggle shop," said the old wizard stubbornly. "Muggles wear them."

"Muggle _women_ wear them, Archie, not the men, they wear _these_," said the Ministry wizard, and he brandished the pinstriped trousers.

"I'm not putting them on," said old Archie in indignation. "I like a healthy breeze 'round my privates, thanks."

Amara and Hermione started giggling uncontrollably by this time and they had to giggle their way out of the queue and wait until Archie had got his water and they were able to get some.

The water made them walk slower now as they trekked back through the campsite, this time in a different row, to see the different people. There were a lot of people they saw from Hogwarts, however – they were hassled by Oliver Wood first, who was eager to say hello to Harry and to get him to meet his parents and discuss his future career in the Quidditch team Puddlemere United. Amara spotted Lisa Turpin, from Ravenclaw as well before they were hailed by the pompous Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan. Further on, Harry got flustered when they saw the Seeker of the Ravenclaw team, Cho Chang, who was a pretty girl, with long straight, black hair.

To stop Ron from teasing him, Harry changed the subject to a group of teenagers who didn't go to Hogwarts.

"Who d'you reckon they are?" he said. "They don't go to Hog- warts, do they?"

" 'Spect they go to some foreign school," said Ron. "I know there are others. Never met anyone who went to one, though – except your family, Amara. Bill had a penfriend at a school in Brazil . . . this was years and years ago . . . and he wanted to go on an exchange trip but Mum and Dad couldn't afford it. His penfriend got all offended when he said he wasn't going and sent him a cursed hat. It made his ears shrivel up."

Amara didn't really notice anyone else until very familiar voices rang through the air.

"AMARA!" the voice shouted and Amara turned around in disbelief.

"_Tally?" _she exclaimed, as a girl ran forwards. It was indeed her cousin, looking older than she had been before, her gorgeous blonde hair, so unlike her brothers but received from her father's side, flowing out behind her like a fan. Ron's ears went red.

"Amara!" she squealed, hugging her tightly. "And – oh, 'Ermione!" she hugged Hermione too, then Harry. "Hello, Ron," she grinned at the blushing boy and hugged him too.

"What are you doing here?" Amara asked.

"To watch the World Cup, of course!" Tally said. "We were 'oping to bump into you! I'll go get the others – wait here!"

Fifteen seconds later she came back, this time with Jesse, Noah and Louis following her.

Amara noticed that Hermione's face had become considerably brighter. After they had greeted the Reynolds, they decided to go back to the tent with them, to show them to the others.

"I can't believe you guys are here!" said Amara as she walked with them, trying not to drop her water. Tally was drawing Ron into a conversation, but he seemed unable to make a noise, so Tally talked instead. Jesse and Hermione were very close together, so she stayed with Harry and Noah and Louis.

"I got some tickets from work," said Louis. "Pulled some strings."

"You've been ages," said George when they finally got back to the Weasleys' tents. He noticed the extra four people. "Alright? You're Amara's family, right?"

"Yes," said Tally, beaming, from her spot beside Ron. George raised his eyebrows at his brother.

"How did _that _happen?" he whispered to Amara, who grinned.

"Met a few people," said Ron, seemingly able to speak and setting the water down. "You not got that fire started yet?"

"Dad's having fun with the matches," said Fred, coming out of the tent too, ready to greet the others.

Mr. Weasley was having no success at all in lighting the fire, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Splintered matches littered the ground around him, but he looked as though he was having the time of his life.

"Oops!" he said as he managed to light a match and promptly dropped it in surprise.

"Come here, Mr. Weasley," said Hermione kindly, taking the box from him, and showing him how to do it properly.

At last they got the fire lit, and they all crowded around it, each in different conversations. Ron was finally managing to have a proper conversation with Tally, however it was only because Ginny was helping him; Hermione and Jesse were catching up from their last letter; Fred, George and Noah were talking with a lot of jokes andMr Weasley gave Harry, Amara and Louis a commentary of everyone in the ministry who ran past. It was rather entertaining, considering they still couldn't cook anything on the fire for another hour.

"That was Cuthbert Mockridge, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office. . . . Here comes Gilbert Wimple; he's with the Committee on Experimental Charms; he's had those horns for a while now. . . . Hello, Arnie . . . Arnold Peasegood, he's an Obliviator — member of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, you know. . . . and that's Bode and Croaker . . . they're Unspeakables. . . ."

"They're what?"

"From the Department of Mysteries, top secret, no idea what they get up to. . . ."

"Oh, that's Albert Hoodridge – he visits me a couple of times a year," noted Louis.

At last, the fire was ready, and they had just started cooking eggs and sausages when Bill, Charlie, and Percy came strolling out of the woods toward them.

"Just Apparated, Dad," said Percy loudly. "Ah, excellent, lunch!"

When Bill, Charlie and Percy looked inquisitively at the four Reynolds, they all had to do the greeting all over again, Percy choking on his eggs and sausages when Amara introduced Louis to him.

They were halfway through their plates of eggs and sausages when Mr Weasley jumped to his feet, waving and grinning at a man who was striding toward them. "Aha!" he said. "The man of the moment! Ludo!"

Ludo Bagman was obviously the reason why Mr Roberts was so suspicious. Who wouldn't question something when Ludo Bagman was wearing long Quidditch Rrobes with bright yellow and black stripes and a picture of a wasp on his chest. He looked like a school boy turned thirty – blue eyes, blonde hair and rosy cheeks. His stomach was stretching his robes that obviously didn't happen when he was on the Quidditch Team.

"Ahoy there!" Bagman called happily. He was walking as though he had springs attached to the balls of his feet and was plainly in a state of wild excitement.

"Arthur, old man," he puffed as he reached the campfire, "what a day, eh? What a day! Could we have asked for more perfect weather? A cloudless night coming . . . and hardly a hiccough in the arrangements. . . . Not much for me to do!"

Behind him, a group of haggard-looking Ministry wizards rushed past, pointing at the distant evidence of some sort of a magical fire that was sending violet sparks twenty feet into the air. Amara raised her eyebrows at him.

Percy hurried forward with his hand outstretched. Apparently his disapproval of the way Ludo Bagman ran his department did not prevent him from wanting to make a good impression. That meant, sucking up to him.

"Ah — yes," said Mr. Weasley, grinning, "this is my son Percy. He's just started at the Ministry — and this is Fred — no, George, sorry — _that's_ Fred — Bill, Charlie, Ron — my daughter, Ginny — and Ron's friends, Amara Matthews – these are her cousins, Jesse, Noah and Tally – her Uncle – you know Louis Reynolds? And Ron's other friends Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."

Bagman did the smallest of double takes when he heard Harry's name, and his eyes went straight up to his forehead, like everyone's did.

"Everyone," Mr. Weasley continued, "this is Ludo Bagman, you know who he is, it's thanks to him we've got such good tickets —" Bagman beamed and waved his hand as if to say it had been nothing.

"Fancy a flutter on the match, Arthur?" he said eagerly, jingling his pockets, and Amara was surprised at how quickly he had sprung up the comment. "I've already got Roddy Pontner betting me Bulgaria will score first — I offered him nice odds, considering Ireland's front three are the strongest I've seen in years — and little Agatha Timms has put up half shares in her eel farm on a week- long match."

"Oh . . . go on then," said Mr Weasley. "Let's see . . . a Galleon on Ireland to win?"

"A Galleon?" Ludo Bagman looked slightly disappointed, but recovered himself quickly. "Very well, very well . . . any other takers?"

"They're a bit young to be gambling," said Mr Weasley. "Molly wouldn't like —"

"We'll bet thirty-seven Galleons, fifteen Sickles, three Knuts," said Fred as he and George quickly pooled all their money, "that Ireland wins — but Viktor Krum gets the Snitch. Oh and we'll throw in a fake wand." Amara refrained a groan – it sounded like it was all their savings.

"You don't want to go showing Mr Bagman rubbish like that —" Percy hissed at the twins, who obviously didn't listen. Bagman, however, loved it, picking the wand up and laughing uproariously at the rubber chicken it turned into.

"Excellent! I haven't seen one that convincing in years! I'd pay five Galleons for that!"

Percy froze in an attitude of stunned disapproval and Amara giggled with Tally.

"Boys," said Mr Weasley under his breath, "I don't want you betting. . . . That's all your savings. . . . Your mother —"

"Don't be a spoilsport, Arthur!" boomed Ludo Bagman, rattling his pockets excitedly. "They're old enough to know what they want! You reckon Ireland will win but Krum'll get the Snitch? Not a chance, boys, not a chance. . . . I'll give you excellent odds on that one. . . . We'll add five Galleons for the funny wand, then, shall we. . . ."

Mr Weasley looked on helplessly as Ludo Bagman took out a book and quill so he could jot down Fred and George's names.

"Cheers," said George, taking the slip of parchment Bagman handed him and tucking it away carefully like a businessman. Bagman turned most cheerfully back to Mr Weasley.

"Couldn't do me a brew, I suppose? I'm keeping an eye out for Barty Crouch. My Bulgarian opposite number's making difficulties, and I can't understand a word he's saying. Barty'll be able to sort it out. He speaks about a hundred and fifty languages."

"Mr. Crouch?" said Percy, suddenly stopping his normal stiff posture and wriggling with excitement. "He speaks over two hundred! Mermish and Gobbledegook and Troll . . ."

"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is point and grunt."

Percy threw Fred an extremely nasty look, before stoking the fire so that it could boil the kettle again.

"Any news of Bertha Jorkins yet, Ludo?" Mr Weasley asked as Bagman placed himself on the ground near Tally (who scrunched her nose up and moved so she was sitting next to Amara instead, not realising the sad look on Ron's face).

"Not a dicky bird," said Bagman comfortably. "But she'll turn up. Poor old Bertha . . . memory like a leaky cauldron and no sense of direction. Lost, you take my word for it. She'll wander back into the office sometime in October, thinking it's still July."

"You don't think it might be time to send someone to look for her?" Mr. Weasley suggested tentatively as Percy handed Bagman his tea, eagerly anticipation his reaction.

"Barty Crouch keeps saying that," said Bagman, his round eyes widening innocently, like he did not know about anything. "but we really can't spare anyone at the moment. Oh — talk of the devil! Barty!"

A man had apparated by them, near the fire. It was obvious as soon as you saw Barty Crouch why Percy loved him so much. He was practically like an older version of him, but slightly more extreme. He was wearing such a perfectly crisp suit with matching tie, and his short grey hair was shiny, straight and immaculate. Even his moustache was perfect – narrow and tightly trimmed. He did not look out of place in the muggle world one bit. Amara thought he looked very, very boring and hoped he wouldn't stay for long.

"Pull up a bit of grass, Barty," said Ludo brightly, patting the ground beside him.

"No thank you, Ludo," said Crouch, and Amara hoped that he'd leave. "I've been looking for you everywhere. The Bulgarians are insisting we add another twelve seats to the Top Box."

"Oh is that what they're after?" said Bagman. "I thought the chap was asking to borrow a pair of tweezers. Bit of a strong accent."

"Mr Crouch!" said Percy breathlessly, sunk into a kind of half-bow that made him look like a hunchback and made Amara and Tally snort into their tea cups. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Oh," said Mr Crouch, looking over at Percy in mild surprise. "Yes — thank you, Weatherby"

Fred and George choked into their own cups and Amara spluttered. Percy, very pink around the ears, busied himself with the kettle.

"Oh and I've been wanting a word with you too, Arthur," said Mr Crouch, his sharp eyes falling upon Mr. Weasley. "Ali Bashir's on the warpath. He wants a word with you about your embargo on flying carpets."

Mr Weasley heaved a deep sigh.

"I sent him an owl about that just last week. If I've told him once I've told him a hundred times: Carpets are defined as a Muggle Artefact by the Registry of Proscribed Charmable Objects, but will he listen?"

"I doubt it," said Mr Crouch, accepting a cup from Percy, who was still rather flushed. "He's desperate to export here."

"Well, they'll never replace brooms in Britain, will they?" said Bagman.

"Ali thinks there's a niche in the market for a family vehicle," said Mr Crouch. "I remember my grandfather had an Axminster that could seat twelve — but that was before carpets were banned, of course."

He spoke as though he wanted to leave nobody in any doubt that all his ancestors had abided strictly by the law.

"So, been keeping busy, Barty?" said Bagman breezily, seemingly not listening to what he was saying.

"Fairly," said Mr Crouch dryly. "Organizing Portkeys across five continents is no mean feat, Ludo."

"I expect you'll both be glad when this is over?" said Mr Weasley.

Bagman looked shocked.

"Glad! Don't know when I've had more fun. . . . Still, it's not as though we haven't got anything to look forward to, eh, Barty? Eh? Plenty left to organize, eh?"

Mr Crouch raised his eyebrows at Bagman whilst everyone else looked up in keen interest.

"We agreed not to make the announcement until all the details —"

"Oh details!" said Bagman, waving the word away like a cloud of mosquitoes. "They've signed, haven't they? They've agreed, haven't they? I bet you anything these kids'll know soon enough anyway. I mean, it's happening at Hogwarts —"

Amara's ears perked up at the word, but Mr Crouch got there before anything else could slip out.

"Ludo, we need to meet the Bulgarians, you know," said Mr Crouch sharply, cutting Bagman's remarks short. "Thank you for the tea, Weatherby."

He pushed his still-full cup of tea back at Percy and waited for Ludo to rise; Bagman struggled to his feet, swigging down the last of his tea, the gold in his pockets chinking merrily.

"See you all later!" he said. "You'll be up in the Top Box with me — I'm commentating!" He waved, Barty Crouch nodded curtly, and both of them Disapparated.

"What's happening at Hogwarts, Dad?" said Fred at once. "What were they talking about?"

"You'll find out soon enough," said MrWeasley, smiling.

"It's classified information, until such time as the Ministry decides to release it," said Percy stiffly, obviously thinking he was superior, eventhough, four months ago, he was still at Hogwarts. "Mr Crouch was quite right not to disclose it."

"Oh shut up, Weatherby," said Fred.

"Have you got tickets for the Top Box?" Tally said excitedly after everyone had finished giggling.

"Yes," said Mr Weasley, smiling at her.

"We've got them too!" Tally beamed.

"Dad gave a donation for the Ministry," explained Jesse. "So your Minister boosted up our seats."

"He said another family had already taken his guest spots – they sound right stuck-ups, from what we heard," said Noah.

They spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with Tally, Noah and Jesse, hearing all their stories about Beauxbatons, which was not nearly as exciting as Amara, Harry, Hermione and Ron's year, but they couldn't explain, considering it was about Sirius Black.

"Adeline Page _finally _got over Jesse," Tally informed them as the afternoon got later and the excitement rose.

"After she found out he likes Her- mm!" Noah didn't finish his sentence when Jesse clamped a hand over his mouth. Jesse was bright red and everyone was looking at Hermione's reaction. She was trying to act nonchalant, but it was obvious, from the tinge on her cheeks, that she was pleased.

"Anyway," Tally giggled. "She got annoyed at told Fleur, this girl in their group, that Jesse liked her, and she stopped talking to him for _three months_!"

"Then Adeline got upset and told Fleur the truth, and so now Fleur is not speaking to _her." _said Noah.

"Wow," said Amara. "You get a lot of drama."

"Yeah, well," said Tally. "You get excitement, and we get girly drama."

As the daylight turned to dusk, the excitement was so intense even the Ministry workers gave up and decided what magic happened, would happen. Across the entire campsite was a sense of anticipation, quivering to the very fingers of every wizard or witch in the area.

As they walked out of the tent, salesmen apparated everywhere, carrying trays, pushing carts and holding armfuls of amazing merchandise that everyone was buying. Luminous rosettes that squeaked the names of the players: green for Ireland – _Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Lynch!_ – and red for Bulgaria – _Dimitrov! Ivanova! Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Krum! _

There were green hats that were decorated with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian and Irish scarves – flags of the two countries, that sang the national anthem when waved. Firebolts like Harry's had been turned miniature – they actually flew around you and they even had crate upon crate of collectable figures of the players on each team, all doing a different thing whilst walking on your palm – most of them preening themselves in shiny objects.

"Been saving my pocket money all summer for this," Ron told them as he, Harry, Amara and Hermione walked through the crowds of salesmen, seeing Tally, Jesse and Noah get thoroughly over-excited at the Firebolt that Ginny bought and let it fly around them. Ron bought one of the green hats and the rosette, but also got a miniature figure of Viktor Krum so he could walk over his palm. Amara bought an Irish scarf and wound It around her neck excitedly.

"Wow, look at these!" said Harry, hurrying over to a cart piled high with what looked like brass binoculars, except that they were covered with all sorts of weird knobs and dials.

"Wow," said Amara, picking one up and examining it.

"Omnioculars," said the saleswizard eagerly. "You can replay action . . . slow everything down . . . and they flash up a play-by-play breakdown if you need it. Bargain — ten Galleons each."

"Wish I hadn't bought this now," said Ron, gesturing at his dancing shamrock hat and gazing longingly at the Omnioculars.

"Four pairs," said Harry firmly to the wizard.

"No — don't bother," said Ron, going red. And Amara protested too.

"It's alright Harry, I can pay for it," she said, but it fell on deaf ears.

"You won't be getting anything for Christmas," Harry told them both, thrusting Omnioculars into Amara, Ron and Hermione's hands. "For about ten years, mind."

"Fair enough," said Ron, grinning.

"Thanks Harry!" Amara beamed. "Do you want a scarf too?"

Harry's expression told her that he did, so she eagerly bought one in five seconds flat.

"Oooh, thanks, Harry," said Hermione. "And I'll get us some programs, look —"

They hurried back to the tents, their money bags rather empty, to meet up with the others. Bill, Charlie and Ginny had rosettes. Noah was wearing a scarf whilst Jesse and Tally were laughing at each other in green hats. It was surprising how amazing Tally looked whilst wearing a ridiculous hat. Ron, it seemed, had noticed. Mr Weasley and Louis were both carrying flags and looking just as excited as everyone else.

And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.

"It's time!" said Mr Weasley excitedly. "Come on, let's go!"


	8. The Quidditch World Cup

**_A/N I'm sooo sorry about the wait! I just couldn't seem to finish this chapter, and I know school is an annoying excuse but it was ¬.¬ Urgh, but luckily it's half term at them moment, so I will try and get this one and maybe 2 others out this week (most probably one other) I hope you enjoy! xxx (Guest - R&R means Read and Review ^.^) _**

**_Chapter Eight_**

**_The Quidditch World Cup_**

Clutching their purchases, Mr Weasley and Louis lead them down the path and into the woods, following the brightly lit trail of the lamps. Thousands of people were heading the same way – there was laughter, shouts and lots of snippets of songs. It was catching, and Amara was soon grinning like a madwoman, skipping down the path, eager to see the stadium. The walk in the woods was twenty minutes, and they laughed, joked and talked the entire way there, before coming out of the woods and seeing a gigantic stadium in front of them. It was so big, ten cathedrals could fit inside, and the whole thing was bright gold. in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern-lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around

"Seats a hundred thousand," said Mr Weasley, spotting the awestruck look on everyone's faces. "Ministry task force of five hundred have been working on it all year. Muggle Repelling Charms on every inch of it. Every time Muggles have got anywhere near here all year, they've suddenly remembered urgent appointments and had to dash away again . . . bless them," he added fondly, leading the way toward the nearest entrance, which was already surrounded by a swarm of shouting witches and wizards, all eager to enter the stadium.

"Prime seats!" said the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checked everyone's tickets. "Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go – you too, Louis," she added, smiling. "You lot are lucky!"

The massive group of fifteen entered the stadium, trying to get everything in. The stairs were carpeted in rich purple, contrasting well with the gleaming gold. They began their way up the stairs, the numbers of people walking with them decreasing the higher they got – the people leaving through different doors every level. Their party kept climbing until they reached the top and were in a small box, fitting little more than twenty people in purple-and-gilt chairs, which sat in two rows. Amara, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, George, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Mr Weasley, Louis, Tally, Noah and Jesse took up the entire front row, and Amara was in awe at the Quidditch Stadium before her.

The box was situated precisely in the middle of the golden goalposts at each end of the pitch, at the highest point. A hundred thousand witches and wizards were making their way into the stadium, sitting in the golden light that issued from the stadium itself, and filled up the thousands of rows that marked all along the oval field. Opposite them was a giant blackboard which had gold writing appear on it as though someone was writing it and rubbing it off. There were lots of adverts that flashed across it.

_The Bluebottle: A Broom for All the Family — safe, reliable, and with Built-in Anti-Burglar Buzzer . . . Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover: No Pain, No Stain! . . . Gladrags Wizardwear — London, Paris, Hogsmeade . . . Visit Zonko's Joke Shop: The Best Tricks Money can buy! … _

Amara turned and grinned at Hermione.

"Have you ever _seen _anything like this before?" she said.

"It's amazing – did you hear about all the charms on the place to keep the muggles away?" said Hermione. Amara sighed, but it wasn't heard over the noise.

"I was thinking about the size," she said. "And the look."

"It's spectacular," said Tally, turning around from next to Amara. "Even better than the Palace at Beauxbatons."

"Is it nice?"

"I'm sad to say it, but yes," said Tally. "It's very nice."

Amara was about to reply when she heard something squeak from behind them: _"_Did sir just call me Dobby?"

Amara turned and saw a creature sitting on the second to last seat on the row behind them. It's legs were so short they stuck out, and it was wearing a tea towel like a toga. It had long bat-like ears and its huge brown eyes were peering up at Harry with an enormous tomato-nose. Amara noticed that Hermione, Ron, Tally and even Mr Weasley had turned around to look.

"Sorry," Harry told the elf, "I just thought you were someone I knew."

"But I knows Dobby too, sir!" squeaked the elf. She was shielding her face, as though blinded by light, though the Top Box was not brightly lit. "My name is Winky, sir — and you, sir —" Her dark brown eyes widened to the size of side plates as they rested upon Harry's scar. "You is surely Harry Potter!"

"Yeah, I am," said Harry.

"But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!" she said, lowering her hands very slightly and looking awestruck.

"How is he?" said Harry. "How's freedom suiting him?"

"Ah, sir," said Winky, shaking her head, "ah sir, meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favour, sir, when you is setting him free."

"Why?" said Harry, taken aback. "What's wrong with him?"

"Freedom is going to Dobby's head, sir," said Winky sadly. "Ideas above his station, sir. Can't get another position, sir."

"Why not?" said Harry.

Winky lowered her voice by a half-octave and whispered, "_He is wanting paying for his work, sir._"

"Paying?" said Harry blankly. "Well — why shouldn't he be paid?" and Amara agreed with him. Dobby _wanted _freedom, why shouldn't he be paid, like everyone else?

Winky looked quite horrified at the idea and closed her fingers slightly so that her face was half-hidden again.

"House-elves is not paid, sir!" she said in a muffled squeak. "No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this, Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you's up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, like some common goblin."

"Well, it's about time he had a bit of fun," said Harry.

"House-elves is not supposed to have fun, Harry Potter," said Winky firmly, from behind her hands. "House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, Harry Potter" — she glanced toward the edge of the box and gulped — "but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, sir."

"Why's he sent you up here, if he knows you don't like heights?" said Harry, frowning. Amara looked at the creature and realised how scared she actually was.

"Master — master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy," said Winky, tilting her head toward the empty space beside her. "Winky is wishing she is back in master's tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf."

She gave the edge of the box another frightened look and hid her eyes completely again. Harry turned back to the others.

"So that's a house-elf?" Amara heard Ron mutter. "Weird things, aren't they?"

"Dobby was weirder," said Harry fervently.

"What a weird creature," said Tally. "Have you seen one of them before?"

"No," said Amara. "That was very weird."

Ron had now pulled out his Omnioculars and had started testing them out, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.

"Wild!" he said, twiddling the replay knob on the side. "I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again . . . and again . . . and again . . ."

Hermione, meanwhile, was skimming eagerly through her velvet- covered, tasselled program.

" '_A display from the team mascots will precede the match,_' " she read aloud.

"Oh that's always worth watching," said Mr. Weasley. "National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show."

Amara looked around the stadium, watching the seats fill up with her Omnioculars. They were very cool, and they were able to see everything in the audience and what they were doing.

The box filled gradually around them over the next half hour.

Mr Weasley greeted everyone who came into the Top Box, and even Louis said hello to a few. Percy, however, jumped up and down like a kangaroo, greeting everyone who came in and looking important. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrived, Percy bowed so low that his glasses fell off and shattered. Percy looked very embarrassed, so he repaired them quickly and stayed in his seat the remainder of the time. Cornelius Fudge himself greeted Harry warmly, introducing the wizards that he was with to him. Amara, Hermione and Ron grinned at how awkward Harry looked at that moment. Fudge also greeted the Reynolds as well, as though they were old friends.

"Harry Potter, you know," Fudge told the Bulgarian minister who was standing next to him, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and didn't seem to understand a word of English. "_Harry Potter_ . . . oh come on now, you know who he is . . . the boy who survived You-Know-Who . . . you _do_ know who he is —"  
The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spotted Harry's scar and started gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.

"Knew we'd get there in the end," said Fudge wearily (to Harry). "I'm no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf's saving him a seat. . . . Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places . . . ah, and here's Lucius!"

Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione whipped around to look behind them. Making their way towards the three empty seats behind Mr Weasley and Louis was none other but the people Amara really did not want to see on her holidays: Draco Malfoy, his father Lucius, and a woman (who had to be his mother), who was tall, slim and blonde, and rather pretty, except her nose was constantly turned as though something disgusting was wafting under it.

"Ah, Fudge," said Mr Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister for Magic. "How are you? I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs Malfoy. "And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — _Obalonsk_ — Mr. — well, he's the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

There was an increase of tension as Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy looked at each other. The last time this had happened it had ended up as a fight in the middle of Flourish and Blotts' bookshop, which hadn't been very pleasant. Mr Malfoy's cold and piercing eyes went through Mr Weasley and all the way down their row.

"Good lord, Arthur," he said softly so that the Minister couldn't hear him. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched this much?"

Fudge, who wasn't listening anyway, said, "Lucius has just given a _very_ generous contribution to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How — how nice," said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.  
Mr Malfoy's eyes had returned to Amara and Hermione. Hermione went pink slightly but stared back, and Amara narrowed her eyes, challenging him. Just because she was muggle-born gave him no right to curl his lip, exactly like his son's did. Mr Malfoy did not take on Amara's challenge of speaking, more to the fact that the Minister for Magic was there than anything, but Amara still smirked when he began to walk away again. Amara shot a glare at Draco as he passed, which he returned in the same manner, before sitting down in between his parents.

"Slimy gits," Ron muttered as he, Amara, Harry, and Hermione turned to face the field again. Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box.

"Everyone ready?" he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. "Minister — ready to go?"

"Ready when you are, Ludo," said Fudge comfortably.

Bagman got out his wand and pointed it at his throat. "_Sonorus!" _he said, and sudden;y his voice was amplified across the whole stadium.

"Ladies and Gentlemen … welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

Amara screamed and cheered with the rest of the crowds, clapping and stamping their feet. Thousands of flags were waved in the air – the national anthems blaring out and mixing in with one another. The blackboard that was showing adverts wiped away: _Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans – A Risk with Every Mouthful! _And instead were the words: BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0. 

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce . . . the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval.

"I wonder what they've brought," said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. "Aaah!" He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. "_Veela!"_

"What are veel — ?" Harry began, but stopped, his mouth opening. Amara frowned in confusion at him and looked on the field. Veela, it seemed, were women, _very _beautiful women, in fact, with shining skin and white-gold hair that floated, even though there was no wind. They started to dance with the music that was playing. Amara looked around and saw that all the men were gazing, transfixed at the women, and looking as though they were going to do something spectacular.

"What's going on?" Amara said, turning to Tally, whose hair seemed to be glowing. "What's up with your hair?"

"It's the Veela," said Tally. "They're dancing is intoxicating," she giggled. "I think my great, great, great Grandmother on my Dad's side was one, it explains the hair." She pointed at her own blonde hair, then back at Jesse and Noah's, both like Amara's.

"Harry, what _are_ you doing?" said Hermione as the music stopped. Tally giggled at the site of Harry, one of his legs on the wall of the box and Ron, looking as though he was ready to dive off a springboard.

Yells were now filling the stadium, shouting to not let the Veela go. Harry seemed very confused now, and Ron was shredding his green shamrock hat to pieces. As Mr Weasley tugged the hat out of his hands, Amara noticed the stony look on both Tally _and _Hermione's face. Amara then noticed Jesse, standing with Noah and Charlie, hanging out of the box, waving their hands.

Amara tugged Jesse back down and glared at him. Jesse blushed slightly and sank down into his chair.

Hermione made a loud tutting noise. She reached up and pulled Harry back into his seat_. "Honestly!"_ she said.

"And now," roared Ludo Bagman's voice, "kindly put your wands in the air . . . for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd went wild and _ooohed _in appreciation. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. And gold started to rain down at them.

"Excellent!" yelled Ron as the shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Amara saw that the shamrock was made up of Leprechauns – all with tiny red beards.

"Leprechauns!" said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

"There you go," Amara heard Ron yell happily, and she saw him stuffing a fistful of gold coins into Harry's hand, "for the Omnioculars! Now you've got to buy me a Christmas present, ha!"

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the Veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand — _Krum!_"

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Curious herself, Amara watched him too. He was dark, thin with a curved nose and thick eyebrows. Amara didn't quite know what to make of him.

"And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!" yelled Bagman. "Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand — _Lynch!_"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field, much to the tremendous applause of the crowd. They looked spectacular, all in formation as they rode their Firebolts expertly.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"  
A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Amara watched as Mostafa opened the crate and the four balls shot out – the Quaffle, the Bludgers and the Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed Bagman. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

This was the greatest Quidditch match Amara had ever seen. It was so fast, it was so hard to keep up with the players, even with the Omnioculars. The players on both teams were exceptionally fast and good – the Quaffle was being passed so quickly, Bagman couldn't keep up. The Omnioculars gave the names of all the formations, but Amara did not have time to read it. Troy dropped the Quaffle downwards, Moran catching it and speeding off. One of the beaters – Volkov – swung his bat and Moran dropped the Quaffle, which was swiftly caught by Levski, who shot up and passed it to Ivanova – who threw it to Dimitrov, which was intercepted by Mullet – who sped down the field and passed it to Moran, who made a quick pass to Troy, who zoomed up to the goal and –  
"TROY SCORES!" roared Bagman, and the stadium shuddered with a roar of applause and cheers. "Ten zero to Ireland!"  
"What?" Harry yelled, looking wildly around through his Omnioculars, making Amara laugh. "But Levski's got the Quaffle!"

"Harry, if you're not going to watch at normal speed, you're going to miss things!" shouted Hermione, who was dancing up and down with Amara, both of them waving their arms in the air while Troy did a lap of honour around the field. The Leprechans on the field were dancing in a shamrock formation as the Veela looked on sulkily.

The Irish Chasers were superb – they never seem to have the Quaffle intercepted, they knew exactly what the other chasers were doing, and in ten minutes, they had scored twice more. The blackboard now read: BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 30.

The match became even faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria's first goal.

"Fingers in your ears!" bellowed Mr. Weasley as the Veela started to dance in celebration. Amara didn't bother, and instead, watched the game with Hermione and Tally. Bulgaria had the Quaffle again, and were making swift passes to one another.

"Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova — oh I say!" roared Bagman.

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Amara gasped as they neared the bottom.

"They're going to crash!" screamed Hermione next to her.

Hermione was nearly right – Viktor Krum, from the Bulgarian side, pulled out so quickly that Lynch didn't realise until he crashed onto the ground. There was a nasty thud as everyone groaned from the Ireland side of the pitch. Krum had flown off without looking as Lynch lay on the ground.

"Fool!" moaned Mr Weasley. "Krum was feinting!"

"It's time-out!" yelled Bagman's voice, "as trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!"

"He'll be okay, he only got ploughed!" Charlie said reassuringly to Ginny, who was hanging over the side of the box, looking horror-struck. "Which is what Krum was after, of course. . . ."

"What a cruel trick," said Amara, turning towards Tally.

"It helped the Bulgarians though," said Tally. "Look, Krum's looking for the snitch now."

Amara looked at the pitch in interest. She used her Omnioculars to watch what was going on. Krum was flying above the pitch, his little eyes darting everywhere, looking for the snitch before Lynch managed to get up. Krum wasn't bad looking, Amara decided as she watched him fly around the pitch. Dark and round-shouldered, but an excellent Quidditch player. Aidan Lynch was lying on the ground directly below him, he seemed to be rather out of it, and was only being revived by cups of potion given to him by the crowd of mediwizards surrounding him. Once he drank the potion, he seemed to be all right again, but had a minute or two to get to himself again.

When he did stand up and get onto his broom, the Ireland Supporters went wild, cheering out his name. Ireland, once starting again, seemed to have had a new heart. Their Chasers started moving so fast that after fifteen more minutes of brutal action, Ireland had pulled forwards by ten more goals. It was now 130:10, Ireland in the lead. The game, however, started to get dirtier as time went on. Mullet, an Ireland Chaser shot forwards to the Bulgarian goal, ready to score, but the Keep, Zograf, flew out to meet her.

What happened was uncertain – one minute they were playing, the next, Hassan Mostafa blew his whistle for a penalty.

"And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows!" Bagman informed the roaring spectators. "And — yes, it's a penalty to Ireland!"

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words _"HA, HA, HA!"_ The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their white-golden hair angrily, and started to dance again, furiously.  
As one, the Weasley boys, the Reynolds boys and Harry stuffed their fingers into their ears, but Amara, Hermione and Tally didn't bother. They were too interested in watching what the referee was doing.

"Look at the referee!" Amara heard Hermione giggle to Harry. The referee had flown down next to the veela and had started flexing his non-existent muscles and smoothing down his moustache. Amara giggled at the sight as the rest of the Weasley boys took their fingers out their ears to watch.

"Now, we can't have that!" said Ludo Bagman, though he sounded highly amused. "Somebody slap the referee!"

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears, and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; By watching through the Omniocular, it was easy to see that Mostafa was looking awfully embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who looked rather mutinous.

"And unless I'm much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots!" said Bagman's voice. "Now _there's_ something we haven't seen before. . . . Oh this could turn nasty. . . ."

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words _"HEE, HEE, HEE."_ Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians' arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.

"_Two_ penalties for Ireland!" shouted Bagman, and the Bulgarian crowd howled with anger. "And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms . . . yes . . . there they go . . . and Troy takes the Quaffle . . ."

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom.

_"__Foul!"_ roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green. Amara and the others were with them, shouting out.

"Foul!" echoed Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice. "Dimitrov skins Moran — deliberately flying to collide there — and it's got to be another penalty — yes, there's the whistle!"

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. They were no longer beautiful – they were like birds, with talons and beaks, looking evilly at the leprechauns.

"Wow," said Tally, looking down. "I wonder if my great, great, grandmother could do _that." _

Amara laughed as the boys listened to what Mr Weasley was yelling.

"And _that_, boys," yelled Mr Weasley over the tumult of the crowd below, "is why you should never go for looks alone!"

Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. The game up in the sky was furious in speed. The passing of the Quaffle was so fast that even Bagman nearly did not have time to say the names anymore.

"Levski — Dimitrov — Moran — Troy — Mullet — Ivanova — Moran again — Moran — MORAN SCORES!"

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members' wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The fight on the pitch was in full swing now – the veela, leprechauns and Ministry wizards were all blurred into one. The game, however, was still going on. Levski had the Quaffle – then Dimitrov.

The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face.  
There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum's nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn't blow his whistle for a penalty. The reason was because an angry veela had shot a fireball at him, successfully setting his broom tail alight. He was very preoccupied – he was trying to get his wand out of his robes, hold the whistle and make sure his robes didn't catch fire all at the same time.

"Time-out! Ah, come on, he can't play like that, look at him —" Ron was yelling, talking about Krum, who was supporting a very bloody nose.

_"__Look at Lynch!"_ Harry yelled suddenly.

For the Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and this time it wasn't the Wronski Feint thing – Lynch had seen the snitch.

"He's seen the Snitch!" Harry shouted. "He's seen it! Look at him go!"

Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on . . . but Krum was now on his tail. Amara saw that the blood from his nose was flying back into his face. It was disgusting, really, and it was a wonder that he knew where he was going. In no time at all, he was drawing level to Aidan Lynch, who was trying with all his might to keep on going faster.

"They're going to crash!" shrieked Hermione, jumping to their feet.

"They're not!" roared Amara and Ron.

"Lynch is!" yelled Harry.

And he was right — for the second time, Lynch hit the ground  
with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela. It looked very painful.

"The Snitch, where's the Snitch?" bellowed Charlie, along the row from them. Amara looked widely around the pitch, trying to see it.

"He's got it — Krum's got it — it's all over!" shouted Harry and Amara saw that he was right. Krum was rising into the air, a glint of gold in his tightly fisted hand. The blackboard flashed the end scores: BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170. The crowds were weirdly quiet, not knowing what was going on, until they read the blackboard in front of them. Then, like something was being turned on, the noise of the Irish supporters grew louder and louder until it was deafening. They all rose up, a green mass, and stamped their feet, screamed themselves hoarse and cheered with the others.

"IRELAND WINS!" Bagman shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match. "KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"What did he catch the Snitch for?" Ron bellowed, even as he jumped up and down, applauding with his hands over his head, and looking like he was doing a weird little dance. "He ended it when Ireland were a hundred and sixty points ahead, the idiot!"

"He knew they were never going to catch up!" Harry shouted back over all the noise, also applauding loudly. "The Irish Chasers were too good. . . . He wanted to end it on his terms, that's all. . . ."

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess. . . ."

"He _was _brave," agreed Amara. "Do you think he's alright?"

"He'll be fine," said Ron, who was still doing his weird little dance. "He's probably had much worse injuries."

Amara nodded, watching Krum on the pitch. He was looking very grumpy now, stomping away from the mediwizards who were trying to help him, shaking his head at the dejected team mates that surrounded him, ignoring the gleeful Irish that were dancing a few yards along the pitch. The veela had gone back to their original selves, looking rather forlorn from the outcome of the match.

Around the stadium, there was a mass of flags being waved, this time only the green ones as the Bulgarians were looking annoyed and dispirited. The leprechauns started zooming around the pitch in celebration.

"Vell, ve fought bravely," said a gloomy voice behind Amara. Looking around, she found that it was the Bulgarian Minster for Magic, whom Fudge had introduced to Harry earlier on, had spoken.

"You can speak English!" said Fudge, sounding outraged. "And you've been letting me mime everything all day!"

"Vell, it vos very funny," said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging. Amara giggled with Tally.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared Bagman.

There was a blinding white light as the Top Box was illuminated, so that everyone in the stands could see what was going on. Two panting wizards were heaving a huge golden cup up the stairs and into the box. They passed it to Cornelius Fudge, who looked rather disgruntled and was shooting looks at the amused Bulgarian Minister, because of his joke.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers — Bulgaria!" Bagman shouted.  
And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively, waiting for them to get on with it. Amara watched as the team players walked one by one up to the Bulgarian Minister and Fudge, shaking their hands as Bagman said each of their names. Krum was last, and Amara watched him the most. He had two black eyes and had a very bloody face. He was holding the snitch, which was fluttering feebly in his hands. His face was still slightly surly, even when Bagman shouted his name and the whole stadium erupted into cheers.

And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. Amara hoped that they could stop clapping soon, because her hands were starting to hurt. At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly's, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way, making Tally and Amara giggle), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, _"Quietus."_  
"They'll be talking about this one for years," he said hoarsely, "a really unexpected twist, that. . . . shame it couldn't have lasted longer. . . . Ah yes. . . . yes, I owe you . . . how much?"  
For Fred and George had just scrambled over the backs of their seats and were standing in front of Ludo Bagman their hands outstretched and identical, smug grins on their faces.


	9. The Dark Mark

**_A/N Happy Hallowe'en! Nice update for you ;) Thanks so much for all the reviews - 51 reviews with only 8 chapters? That's crazy! And I am so grateful! THANK YOU! You make my days when I update :D So please, R&R and enjoy! I have a fair few chapters ready so the next update will hopefully be very soon :) Love you all! :D_**

**_Chapter Nine_**

**_The Dark Mark_**

"Don't tell your mother you've been gambling," Mr Weasley implored Fred and George immediately as they all made their way slowly down the purple-carpeted stairs.

"Don't worry, Dad," said Fred gleefully, rattling his pocket. "we've got big plans for this money. We don't want it confiscated."

Mr Weasley looked for a moment as though he was going to ask what these big plans were, but seemed to decide, upon reflection, that he didn't want to know.

There was a lot of people flowing out of the doors of the stadium, mixing up and making it hard to be able to keep up with the group. The crowds were singing loudly, sweeping them into the campsites. Leprechauns shot over their heads, cackling and laughing, waving their lanterns over the lantern-lit path. Amara couldn't stop grinning, laughing and remembering maxing moments of the game.

They said goodbye to the Reynolds, so they could go back to their tent, before going to their own. They all went into the bigger tent because no one felt like sleeping after all the excitement. Mr Weasley, after realising, let them all stay up for a cup of hot chocolate before going to bed.

The conversation turned into a light-hearted argument about the match, even Mr Weasley joined in after Charlie began talking about 'cobbing'. It was only when Ginny fell asleep at the table and spilled her hot chocolate onto the floor that Mr Weasley told them all to go to bed.

Amara, Hermione and Ginny all said their goodnights before slipping out the tent and into the smaller one. Hermione lit a few lamps just so they could see whilst getting ready for bed - yawning all the while - and clambered into the three single beds.

"I can't believe its over," yawned Amara.

"It was worth the waking up so early," said Ginny sleepily. "Goodnight though."

Hermione and Amara muttered their replies. Outside, there was still a lot of noise to be heard. It was oddly comforting, however, as Amara closed her eyes. The Irish were celebrating to the extreme - there was laughter and shouts, bangs echoing across the campsites as fireworks were lit and shot into the sky. The leprechauns still whooshed over the top of the tents, illuminating them as they cackled with their lanterns.

Amara managed to fall asleep straight away. She found herself in the middle of the green pitch in the Quidditch Stadium, dressed in golden robes - from which team? - and she was lifting the Quidditch cup above her head and grinning brightly. She saw Ron and Hermione, Fred and George - Harry was standing next to her, grinning too. They were all chanting her name - Ludo Bagman was shouting out the scores of the match ...

"Amara - Hermione - Ginny! Quickly! Get up, get up!"

"_Amara!_ Quickly!"

"Wuzzgoinon?" Amara said groggily.

"Amara we have to get up!" Ginny said as Amara opened her eyes blearily. The comforting sounds of the campsite were gone. Instead of the singing there were terrified screams and the sounds of heavy footfalls. There were noises like gunfire that emitted strange lights. Amara's heart thudded as she heard the loud, drunken yells, jeering and laughter. Her senses came back to her and she shot out of bed.

"Grab your wand and a jacket - _quickly!_" Mr Weasley said, who had jeans on top of his pyjamas.

Amara did what she was told - she grabbed her coat and put it over her shorts and t-shirt.

She hurried out of the tent with Hermione and Ginny. People were fleeing into the woods as a crowd of wizards with hidden faces paraded the tents, their wands facing upwards. Above them floated four figures - one, Amara noticed, was Mr Roberts, and the others were obviously his wife and children. Amara put her hand over her mouth as she watched in horror. Several tents had caught fire and the screams had got louder. Bill, Charlie and Percy had left the tent at the same time, wands out and sleeves rolled up.

At the same time, Louis, Tally, Jesse and Noah sprinted up the path of the glowing embers from the fire towards them.

"Get into the woods!" Louis was shouting at his children. "I'm helping the Ministry!"

"So am I!" Jesse said loudly.

"You're still in school!" Louis said, getting his wand out.

"I'm of age - I'm coming - Noah - look after Tally and the others!"

"We're going to help the Ministry! You lot — get into the woods, and _stick together._ I'll come and fetch you when we've sorted this out!" Mr Weasley shouted before sprinting after Louis, Jesse, Bill, Charlie and Percy.

The marchers were coming closer to where they were standing.

"C'mon," said Fred, grabbing Ginny's hand and starting to pull her toward the wood. Amara, Harry, Ron, Hermione, George, Tally and Noah followed quickly. They all looked back as they reached the trees. The crowd beneath the Roberts family was larger than ever; they could see the Ministry wizards trying to get through it to the hooded wizards in the centre, but they were having great difficulty. It looked as though they were scared to perform any spell that might make the Roberts family fall.

The coloured lanterns that had lit the path to the stadium had been extinguished. Dark figures were blundering through the trees; children were crying; anxious shouts and panicked voices were reverberating around them in the cold night air. Amara was pushed side to side, clutching Tally's hand so she couldn't get lost, people blundering into them hard. Then, Ron yelled out in pain.

"Ron!" Tally squeaked anxiously. "Where are you?"

"This is ridiculous!" Amara said and she got her wand out. _"Lumos!"_

Amara heard Tally and Hermione do the same, all three of them pointing their wands to the ground, finding Ron sprawled across the floor.

"Tripped over a tree root," he said angrily.

"Well, with feet that size, hard not to," said a drawling voice from behind them.

Amara, Tally, Harry, Ron, and Hermione turned sharply. Draco Malfoy was standing alone nearby, looking as though he was completely at home and seemed to have been looking at the horrifying events through a gap in the trees.

Ron then said something very rude to Malfoy that he would never say to his mother.

"Language, Weasley," said Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. "Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn't like _them _spotted, would you?"

He nodded at Amara and Hermione, whilst it sounded like a bomb just exploded in the campsite - there was a flash of green like that illuminated their faces.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tally started forward angrily. Malfoy, it seemed, had only just noticed the blonde girl and was momentarily speechless. He then tried to recover himself before anyone noticed.

"They're after _Muggles_," said Malfoy. "D'you want them to be showing off their knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around . . . they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."

"I'll have you know that Amara and Hermione are _witches_," Tally sneered and her French accent became more pronounce. "So get your facts straight."

"Whatever," said Malfoy, a little pink tinge spreading along his cheeks. "If you think they can't spot a Mudblood, stay where you are."

"You watch your mouth!" shouted Ron. Amara and Hermione grabbed his arms before he could step forwards anymore.

"Come on, Ron," said Amara.

A bang that echoed in Amara's head made people around them scream in terror.

Malfoy chuckled.

"Scare easily, don't they?" he said lazily. "I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What's he up to — trying to rescue the Muggles?"

"Where're _your_ parents?" said Harry, "Out there wearing masks, are they?"

Malfoy turned his face to Harry, still smiling.

"Well . . . if they were, I wouldn't be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?"

"Oh come _on_," said Hermione, with a disgusted look at Malfoy, "let's go and find the others."

"Keep that big bushy head down, Granger," sneered Malfoy.

"Come _on_," Hermione repeated, and she, Amara and Tally pulled Harry and Ron up the path again.

"I'll bet you anything his dad is one of that masked lot!" said Ron hotly.

"Well, with any luck, the Ministry will catch him!" said Hermione fervently. "Oh I can't believe this. Where have the others got to?"

For Fred, George, Noah and Ginny had vanished from the path. People were everywhere though - crowding the paths and looking nervously in the direction of the campsite.

A huddle of teenagers a little older than them seemed to be having an argument. As they approached them, a girl with thick blonde curly hair, which looked like candy floss, turned towards them.

_"__Où est Madame Maxime? Nous l__'__avons perdue __—__"_

"Phyllis!" Tally said, pushing her way forwards.

"Tally!" The girl with the curly hair said. _"Avez-vous vu Madame Maxime? Qui sont ces gens?"_

_"Je ne sais pas où elle est, mais ne pas aller-retour au camping - attendre jusqu'à ce qu'il s'arrête._

_"Oh c'est mon cousin et ses amis, ils vont à 'Ogwarts."_ Tally replied. Amara got the gist of what she was saying, but Harry, Ron and Hermione looked clueless.

_"Que se passe-t-il?"_

_"Je ne sais pas - mais nous devons aller chercher les autres - vous parler bientôt!"_ Tally said and they went on their way.

"Er - what?" Ron said. "Did anyone else get that?"

"Those guys are from Beauxbatons," said Amara. "They're looking for 'Madame Maxime'."

"You speak French?" Hermione said, looking rather surprised, which Amara found rather insulting. "But who was she?"

"Phyllis?" Tally asked. "She's the sister of a girl in my dorm, Elodie, I just said who you were and to stay in the woods until this stops."

"I've known French for a while," said Amara when Hermione turned to her.

"Fred and George can't have gone that far," said Ron, pulling out his wand, lighting it like Amara, Tally and Hermione's, and squinting up the path. Amara saw Harry dig in his pockets too, but came out empty handed.

"Ah, no, I don't believe it . . . I've lost my wand!"

"You're kidding!"

Amara, Tally, Ron and Hermione raised their wands high enough to spread the narrow beams of light farther on the ground; Harry looked all around him, but his wand was nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe it's back in the tent," said Ron.

"Maybe it fell out of your pocket when we were running?" Hermione suggested anxiously.

"It could have easily fallen out," said Amara worriedly.

"Yeah," said Harry, "maybe . . ."

Amara kept looking at the wand-lit ground to find his wand.

Amara and the others jumped when a rustling was heard nearby in a bush. Winky - Barty Crouch's house-elf - was trying to get out of the bush, with extreme difficulty. It was as though something was trying to pull her back.

"There is bad wizards about!" she squeaked distractedly as she leaned forward and laboured to keep running. "People high — high in the air! Winky is getting out of the way!"

Her panting and squeaking carried to them as she ran away to the other path.

"What's up with her?" said Ron, looking curiously after Winky. "Why can't she run properly?"

"Bet she didn't ask permission to hide," said Harry as they all looked at where the house-elf had disappeared.

"You know, house-elves get a _very_ raw deal!" said Hermione indignantly. "It's slavery, that's what it is! That Mr Crouch made her go up to the top of the stadium, and she was terrified, and he's got her bewitched so she can't even run when they start trampling tents! Why doesn't anyone _do_ something about it?"

"Well, the elves are happy, aren't they?" Ron said. "You heard old Winky back at the match . . . 'House-elves is not supposed to have fun' . . . that's what she likes, being bossed around. . . ."

"It's people like _you_, Ron," Hermione began hotly, "who prop up rotten and unjust systems, just because they're too lazy to —"

Another loud bang echoed from the edge of the wood.

"Now is _not_ the time, Hermione!" Amara said.

"She's right, let's just keep moving, shall we?" said Ron, and Amara saw him glance edgily at her and Hermione. Straightening her back defiantly, she walked on, lifting her wand high in the air so it lit up more of the path.

They followed the dark path deeper into the wood, still keeping an eye out for Fred, George, and Ginny. They passed a group of goblins who were cackling over a sack of gold that they had undoubtedly won betting on the match, and who seemed quite unperturbed by the trouble at the campsite. Farther still along the path, they walked into a patch of silvery light, and when they looked through the trees, they saw three tall and beautiful veela standing in a clearing, surrounded by a gaggle of young wizards, all of whom were talking very loudly.

"I pull down about a hundred sacks of Galleons a year!" one of them shouted. "I'm a dragon killer for the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures."

"No, you're not!" yelled his friend. "You're a dishwasher at the Leaky Cauldron. . . . but I'm a vampire hunter, I've killed about ninety so far —"

A third young wizard, whose pimples were visible even by the dim, silvery light of the veela, now cut in, "I'm about to become the youngest ever Minister of Magic, I am."

Amara rolled her eyes and looked at the others, everyone seemed normal except Ron, whose face was slack. Tally jumped in front of him, sweeping her hair away from her face. Ron stopped and looked at her, his eyes widening.

"We'd better get going," Tally said, frowning at Ron, who blushed.

Harry and Amara snorted with laughter as they walked off again. It was creepier now, in the woods, they seemed to be in the middle of it, for no one was around anymore, and it was deadly silent. Tally reached out and grabbed Amara's hand in comfort.

Harry looked around. "I reckon we can just wait here, you know. We'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

The words were hardly out of his mouth, when Ludo Bagman emerged from behind a tree right ahead of them.

Ludo Bagman did not look like the person they had seen that morning. He was looking very strained and pale, contrasting to his rosy-cheeked complexion that had been on his face mere hours before.

"Who's that?" he said, blinking down at them, trying to make out their faces. "What are you doing in here, all alone?"

They looked at one another, very surprised.

"Well — there's a sort of riot going on," said Ron.

Bagman stared at him.

"What?"

"At the campsite . . . some people have got hold of a family of Muggles. . . ."

Bagman swore loudly.

"Damn them!" he said, looking quite distracted, and without another word, he Disapparated with a small pop.

"Not exactly on top of things, Mr. Bagman, is he?" said Hermione, frowning.

"He was a great Beater, though," said Ron, leading the way off the path into a small clearing, and sitting down on a patch of dry grass at the foot of a tree. "The Wimbourne Wasps won the league three times in a row while he was with them."

He took his small figure of Krum out of his pocket, set it down on the ground, and watched it walk around. Like the real Krum, the model was slightly duck-footed and round-shouldered, much less impressive on his splayed feet than on his broomstick. They all watched the little Krum in silence, listening out for noises in the campsite. They seemed to be too far away, for the noise was no longer there. Or, the riots may have stopped.

"I hope the others are okay," said Hermione after a while.

"They'll be fine," said Ron.

"Imagine if your dad catches Lucius Malfoy," said Harry, sitting down next to Ron and watching the small figure of Krum slouching over the fallen leaves. "He's always said he'd like to get something on him."

"That'd wipe the smirk off old Draco's face, all right," said Ron.

"Take away his righteousness, that will," said Amara.

"Is this the boy who was rude to us near the edge of the wood?" Tally asked.

"Yeah, he's horrible," said Amara.

"There's no need for it," Tally said. "He's a weird one, from what I saw of him."

"Those poor Muggles, though," said Hermione nervously. "What if they can't get them down?"

"They will," said Ron reassuringly. "They'll find a way."

"Mad, though, to do something like that when the whole Ministry of Magic's out here tonight!" said Hermione. "I mean, how do they expect to get away with it? Do you think they've been drinking, or are they just —"

But she broke off abruptly and looked over her shoulder. Amara, Tally, Harry and Ron looked quickly around too. It sounded as though someone was staggering toward their clearing. Amara inaudibly gulped and clutched Tally's hand tighter. They waited, listening to the sounds of the uneven steps behind the dark trees. But the footsteps came to a sudden halt.

"Hello?" called Harry.

There was silence. Then, Harry got to his feet and looked around a tree. Amara's heart was beating so hard she couldn't hear anything else.

"Who's there?" Harry said.

Without warning, the silence was sliced by a voice in the dark, shouting out what seemed to be a spell of some kind.

"_MORSMORDRE !"_

Something vast, green, and glittering erupted from behind the tree. It flew up over the treetops and into the sky.

"What the — ?" gasped Ron as he sprang to his feet again, staring up at the thing that had appeared. Amara, Hermione and Tally got to their feet too. Above them was a huge skull, emerald in colour and a serpent coming out of its mouth. It was horrible, and it rose higher and higher until it was above the trees and illuminating the night. A split second later, the silence was ruined yet again by screams coming from all directions.

Amara went very pale and tore her eyes away from the skull in the sky.

"Who's there?" Harry called again.

"Harry, come on, _move!_" Hermione had seized the collar of his jacket and was tugging him backward.

"We've got to go!" Amara moaned, having realised the thing in the sky was Voldemort's sign. The sign of someone dying.

"What's the matter?" Harry said, looking startled to see her face so white and terrified.

"It's the Dark Mark, Harry!" Hermione groaned, pulling him as hard as she could. "You-Know-Who's sign!"

_"__Voldemort's — ?"_

"Harry, come on!"

Ron was hurriedly scooping up his miniature Krum and the five if them started across the clearing at a hurried pace. Before they had gone too far, there was a series if pops and twenty wizards apparated around them. Amara squeaked in fear as Harry yelled "DUCK!" and pulled them to the ground.

_"__STUPEFY!"_ roared twenty voices and lots of light flashed over their heads, ruffling their hair in the process. Amara kept her head down and squeezed her eyes shut until —

"Stop!" yelled a voice she recognized. "STOP! _That's my son!"_

Amara unscrewed her eyes and looked up slightly. Mr Weasley was walking towards them, looking terrified.

"Ron — Harry" — his voice sounded shaky — "Amara - Hermione and Tally— are you all right?"

"Out of the way, Arthur," said a cold, curt voice.

Mr Crouch was closing in with the rest of the Ministry wizards and his face was screwed up in rage.

"Which of you did it?" he snapped, his sharp eyes darting between them and back, the eyes sharp and analysing. "Which of you conjured the Dark Mark?"

"We didn't do that!" said Harry, gesturing up at the skull.

"We didn't do anything!" said Ron, who was rubbing his elbow and looking indignantly at his father. "What did you want to attack us for?"

"Do not lie, sir!" shouted Mr Crouch. His wand was still pointing directly at Ron, and his eyes were popping — he looked slightly mad. "You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"It doesn't mean we did it!" Amara exclaimed hotly.

"Barty," whispered a witch in a long woollen dressing gown, "they're kids, Barty, they'd never have been able to —"

"Where did the Mark come from, you five?" said Mr Weasley quickly.

"Over there," said Hermione shakily, pointing at the place where they had heard the voice. "There was someone behind the trees . . . they shouted words — an incantation —"

"Oh, stood over there, did they?" said Mr Crouch, turning his popping eyes on Hermione now, disbelief etched all over his face. "Said an incantation, did they? You seem very well informed about how that Mark is summoned, missy —"

Amara opened her mouth to retort in outrage, but Hermione nudged her. None of the ministry wizards seemed to think that Amara, Harry, Ron, Hermione or Tally had conjured the skull and snake in the sky. At Hermione's words, they lifted their wands and looked at the gap between the trees, squinting in the dark.

"We're too late," said the witch in the woollen dressing gown, shaking her head. "They'll have Disapparated."

"I don't think so," said a wizard with a scrubby brown beard. Amara realised it was the rude Amos Diggory, Cedric's father. Amara wondered what Cedric was doing all on his own in the forest somewhere. "Our Stunners went right through those trees. . . . There's a good chance we got them. . . ."

"Amos, be careful!" said a few of the wizards warningly as Mr Diggory squared his shoulders, raised his wand, marched across the clearing, and disappeared into the darkness. Hermione watched him vanish with her hands over her mouth.

A few seconds later, they heard Mr Diggory shout.

"Yes! We got them! There's someone here! Unconscious! It's — but — blimey . . ."

"You've got someone?" shouted Mr Crouch, sounding highly disbelieving. "Who? Who is it?"

They heard snapping twigs, the rustling of leaves, and then crunching footsteps as Mr. Diggory re-emerged from behind the trees. He was carrying a tiny, limp figure in his arms. Amara squinted at the small figure and took in the big ears, the tea towel toga and the tomato nose. Amara gasped as she realised it was Winky. Amara saw that Mr Crouch did not comment when the elf was placed by his feet. The other Ministry wizards were all staring at Mr. Crouch. For a few seconds Crouch remained transfixed, his eyes blazing in his white face as he stared down at Winky. Then he appeared to come to life again.

"This — cannot — be," he said jerkily. "No —"

He moved quickly around Amos Diggory and strode off toward the place behind the trees where he had found Winky.

"No point, Mr Crouch," Mr Diggory called after him. "There's no one else there."

Mr Crouch did not want to hear it however, and was heard kicking leaves and rummaging in the bushes for anything else.

"Bit embarrassing," Mr Diggory said grimly, looking down at Winky's unconscious form. "Barty Crouch's house-elf . . . I mean to say . . ."

"Come off it, Amos," said Mr Weasley quietly, "you don't seriously think it was the elf? The Dark Mark's a wizard's sign. It requires a wand."

"Yeah," said Mr Diggory, "and she _had_ a wand."

"_What?_" said Mr Weasley.

"Here, look." Mr Diggory held up a wand and showed it to Mr Weasley. "Had it in her hand. So that's clause three of the Code of Wand Use broken, for a start_. No non-human creature is permitted to carry or use a wand."_

Amara's mouth was gaping, so she closed it hurriedly, just as Ludo Bagman apparated right next to Mr Weasley. He was panting, weirdly breathless, and looking as though he had no clue where he was. He spun jerkily on the spot and looked up at the green skull in the sky.

"The Dark Mark!" he panted, almost trampling Winky as he turned inquiringly to his colleagues. "Who did it? Did you get them? Barty! What's going on?"

Mr Crouch had returned empty-handed. His face was still ghostly white, and his hands and his toothbrush moustache were both twitching weirdly. He looked strained and looked slightly mad.

"Where have you been, Barty?" said Bagman. "Why weren't you at the match? Your elf was saving you a seat too — gulping gargoyles!" Bagman had just noticed Winky lying at his feet. "What happened to _her?_"

"I have been busy, Ludo," said Mr Crouch, still talking in the same jerky fashion, like he was being forced to move, and when he spoke, he barely moved his lips. "And my elf has been stunned."

"Stunned? By you lot, you mean? But why — ?"

Comprehension dawned suddenly on Bagman's round, shiny face; he looked up at the skull, down at Winky, and then at Mr Crouch.

_"__No!"_ he said. "Winky? Conjure the Dark Mark? She wouldn't know how! She'd need a wand, for a start!"

"And she had one," said Mr Diggory. "I found her holding one, Ludo. If it's all right with you, Mr. Crouch, I think we should hear what she's got to say for herself."

Crouch gave no sign that he had heard Amos Diggory, therefore, he decided that his silence was an agreement. He raised his own wand, pointed it at Winky, and said, _"Rennervate!"_

Winky stirred feebly. Her great brown eyes opened slowly and she blinked several times in a bemused sort of way. Watched by the silent wizards, she raised herself shakily into a sitting position.

She caught sight of Mr. Diggory's feet, and slowly, tremulously, raised her eyes to stare up into his face; then, more slowly still, she looked up into the sky. Amara saw her slowly raise her head until she saw Amos Diggory standing over her. She gave a great, stuttering gasp and looked around the clearing. Noticing the crowds of ministry wizards, she burst into shaky, terrified sobs.

"Elf!" said Mr Diggory sternly, and Amara was annoyed at how he didn't use her name. "Do you know who I am? I'm a member of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures!"

Winky began to rock backward and forward on the ground, her breath coming in sharp bursts. It was a pitiful sight, and everyone looked awkward.

"As you see, elf, the Dark Mark was conjured here a short while ago," said Mr Diggory. "And you were discovered moments later, right beneath it! An explanation, if you please!"

"I — I — I is not doing it, sir!" Winky gasped. "I is not know- ing how, sir!"

"You were found with a wand in your hand!" barked Mr. Diggory, brandishing it in front of her.

"Hey — that's mine!" Harry said, very suddenly. Amara turned towards him, rather surprised, along with everyone else there.

"Excuse me?" said Mr Diggory, incredulously.

"That's my wand!" said Harry. "I dropped it!"

"You dropped it?" repeated Mr Diggory in disbelief. "Is this a

confession? You threw it aside after you conjured the Mark?"

"Amos, think who you're talking to!" said Mr Weasley, very angrily, and Amara hadn't seen him angry before. "Is _Harry Potter_ likely to conjure the Dark Mark?"

"Er — of course not," mumbled Mr Diggory. "Sorry . . . carried away . . ."

"I didn't drop it there, anyway," said Harry, jerking his thumb toward the trees beneath the skull. "I missed it right after we got into the wood."

"So," said Mr Diggory, his eyes hardening as he turned to look at Winky again, cowering at his feet. "You found this wand, eh, elf? And you picked it up and thought you'd have some fun with it, did you?"

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is . . . I is . . . I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at Amara, Harry and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"Of course not," said Amara firmly.

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"Yeah, it was a human voice," said Ron.

"Well, we'll soon see," growled Mr. Diggory, looking unimpressed, which made Amara annoyed. "There's a simple way of discovering the last spell a wand performed, elf, did you know that?"

Winky trembled and shook her head frantically, her ears flapping, as Mr Diggory raised his own wand again and placed it tip to tip with Harry's now-found wand.

_"__Prior Incantato!"_ roared Mr Diggory. Hermione gasped, looking horrified, as a gigantic serpent- tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick grey smoke: the ghost of a spell that had been uttered.

_"__Deletrius_!" Mr Diggory shouted, and the smoky skull vanished in a wisp of smoke.

"So," said Mr Diggory with a kind of savage triumph, looking down upon Winky, who was still shaking convulsively.

"I is not doing it!" she squealed, her eyes rolling in terror, it looked like she was having some sort of fit. "I is not, I is not, I is not knowing how! I is a good elf, I isn't using wands, I isn't knowing how!"

_"__You've been caught red-handed, elf!"_ Mr Diggory roared. _"Caught with the guilty wand in your hand!"_

"Amos," said Mr Weasley loudly, "think about it . . . precious few wizards know how to do that spell. . . . Where would she have learned it?"

"Perhaps Amos is suggesting," said Mr Crouch, cold anger in every syllable, and it was rather frightening. Amara felt Tally shaking slightly beside her and saw Ron edge a little closer in comfort. "that I routinely teach my servants to conjure the Dark Mark?"

There was a deeply unpleasant silence. Amos Diggory looked horrified. "Mr Crouch . . . not . . . not at all . . ."

"You have now come very close to accusing the two people in this clearing who are _least _likely to conjure that Mark!" barked Mr Crouch. "Harry Potter — and myself! I suppose you are familiar with the boy's story, Amos?"

"Of course — everyone knows —" muttered Mr Diggory, looking highly discomforted.

"And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them?" Mr Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again. He looked like a frog.

"Mr. Crouch, I — I never suggested you had anything to do with it!" Amos Diggory muttered again, now reddening behind his scrubby brown beard and fiddling his hands.

"If you accuse my elf, you accuse me, Diggory!" shouted Mr Crouch. "Where else would she have learned to conjure it?"

"She — she might've picked it up anywhere —"

"Precisely, Amos," said Mr Weasley. _"She might have picked it up anywhere. . . ._ Winky?" he said kindly, turning to the elf, but she flinched as though he too was shouting at her. "Where exactly did you find Harry's wand?"

Winky was twisting the hem of her tea towel so violently that it was fraying beneath her fingers.

"I — I is finding it . . . finding it there, sir. . . ." she whispered, "there . . . in the trees, sir. . . ."

"You see, Amos?" said Mr Weasley. "Whoever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they'd done it, leaving Harry's wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which could have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up.

"But then, she'd have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!" said Mr Diggory impatiently. "Elf ? Did you see anyone?" Winky began to tremble worse than ever. Her giant eyes flickered from Mr Diggory, who was rather red, to Ludo Bagman, still looking pale and shaky and onto Mr Crouch, whose face was bulging.

Then she gulped and said, "I is seeing no one, sir . . . no one . . ."

"Amos," said Mr Crouch curtly, "I am fully aware that, in the ordinary course of events, you would want to take Winky into your department for questioning. I ask you, however, to allow me to deal with her."

Mr Diggory looked as though he didn't think much of this suggestion at all. He looked slightly disgruntled, as though he was trying to hide it. Mr Crouch, however, seemed to be so high in the ministry that Mr Diggory did not want to go against him.

"You may rest assured that she will be punished," Mr Crouch added coldly.

"M-m-master . . ." Winky stammered, looking up at Mr Crouch, her eyes brimming with tears. "M-m-master, p-p-please . . ."

Mr Crouch stared back, his face somehow sharpened, each line upon it more deeply etched. There was no pity in his gaze and Amara knew that he was not going to be nice.

"Winky has behaved tonight in a manner I would not have believed possible," he said slowly and with a look of hatred on his face. "I told her to remain in the tent. I told her to stay there while I went to sort out the trouble. And I find that she disobeyed me. _This means clothes."_

"No!" shrieked Winky, prostrating herself at Mr Crouch's feet. "No, master! Not clothes, not clothes!"

The only way for a house-elf to be free was for the master to give them clothes. Winky, it seemed, hated this fact. She sobbed at Mr Crouch's feet.

"But she was frightened!" Hermione burst out angrily, glaring at Mr Crouch. "Your elf's scared of heights, and those wizards in masks were levitating people! You can't blame her for wanting to get out of their way!"

Mr Crouch took a step backward, freeing himself from contact with the elf, whom he was surveying as though she were something filthy and rotten that was contaminating his over-shined shoes.

"I have no use for a house-elf who disobeys me," he said coldly, looking over at Hermione. "I have no use for a servant who forgets what is due to her master, and to her master's reputation."

Winky was crying so hard that her sobs echoed around the clearing. There was a very nasty silence, which was ended by Mr Weasley, who said quietly, "Well, I think I'll take my lot back to the tent, if nobody's got any objections. Amos, that wand's told us all it can — if Harry could have it back, please —"

Mr Diggory handed Harry his wand and Harry pocketed it.

"Come on, you five," Mr Weasley said quietly. But Hermione didn't seem to want to move; her eyes were still upon the sobbing elf. "Hermione!" Mr Weasley said, more urgently. She turned and followed Amara, Tally Harry and Ron out of the clearing and off through the trees.

"What's going to happen to Winky?" said Hermione, the moment they had left the clearing and out of earshot from the Ministry wizards.

"I don't know," said Mr Weasley.

"The way they were treating her!" said Hermione furiously. "Mr Diggory, calling her 'elf' all the time . . . and Mr Crouch! He knows she didn't do it and he's still going to sack her! He didn't care how frightened she'd been, or how upset she was — it was like she wasn't even human!"

"Well, she's not," said Ron.

Hermione rounded on him.

"That doesn't mean she hasn't got feelings, Ron. It's disgusting

the way —"

"Hermione, I agree with you," said Mr Weasley quickly, beckoning her on, "but now is not the time to discuss elf rights. I want to get back to the tent as fast as we can. What happened to the others?"

"We lost them in the dark," said Ron. "Dad, why was everyone so uptight about that skull thing?"

"I'll explain everything back at the tent," said Mr Weasley tensely. Amara and Tally were at the back if the group, and Tally seemed rather shaken.

"Are you alright?" whispered Amara.

"Yeah," said Tally. "Is that a normal occurrence for you guys?"

"Not really," said Amara.

When they got to the edge of the wood, there was a large group of wizards and witches, conversing in frightened tones. They all surged forwards when they saw Mr Weasley.

"What's going on in there?"

"Who conjured it?"

"Arthur — it's not — _Him?"_

"Of course it's not Him," said Mr Weasley impatiently. "We

don't know who it was; it looks like they Disapparated. Now excuse me, please, I want to get to bed."

He led Amara, Tally, Harry, Ron, and Hermione through the crowd and back into the campsite. All was quiet now; there was no sign of the masked wizards, though several ruined tents were still smoking. It was eerie and strange - everyone hA hidden themselves in their tents now.

Charlie's head was poking out of the boys' tent.

"Dad, what's going on?" he called through the dark. "Fred, George, Ginny and Noah got back okay, but the others —"

"I've got them here," said Mr Weasley, bending down and en- tering the tent. Amara, Tally, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered after him.

Inside sat the rest of the Weasley's and the Reynolds. Bill was holding a bed-sheet to his arm, which was bleeding a lot. Charlie had a large rip in his shirt, Percy had a bloody nose and Jesse had ice on his outstretched ankle. Louis was not there yet.

"Where's Papa?" Tally said worriedly as Noah led her over to Jesse, who hugged her tightly.

"He was trying to find you lot!" Jesse said. "He'll be back soon, I guess."

"Did you get them, Dad?" said Bill sharply. "The person who conjured the Mark?"

"No," said Mr Weasley. "We found Barty Crouch's elf holding Harry's wand, but we're none the wiser about who actually conjured the Mark."

_"__What?"_ said Bill, Charlie, and Percy together.

"Harry's wand?" said Fred.

_"__Mr Crouch's elf?"_ said Percy, sounding thunderstruck.

Mr Weasley, with help from the five who were there, explained what had happened in the woods. Half way through, a tired looking Louis came through the tent, looking relieved at the sight of his daughter and niece.

"Thank Merlin you are all right!" Louis said, hugging them both. "Do you know what's happened?" He said to Mr Weasley.

They started up the explaining again and once they finished, Percy swelled indignantly.

"Well, Mr Crouch is quite right to get rid of an elf like that!" he said. "Running away when he'd expressly told her not to . . . embarrassing him in front of the whole Ministry . . . how would that have looked, if she'd been brought up in front of the Department for the Regulation and Control —"

"She didn't do anything — she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time!" Hermione snapped at Percy, who looked very taken aback. Hermione had always got on fairly well with Percy — better, indeed, than any of the others. They'd always been civil towards one another.

"Hermione, a wizard in Mr Crouch's position can't afford a house-elf who's going to run amok with a wand!" said Percy pompously, recovering himself.

"She didn't run amok!" shouted Hermione. "She just picked it up off the ground!"

"Look, can someone just explain what that skull thing was?" said Ron impatiently. "It wasn't hurting anyone. . . . Why's it such a big deal?"

"I told you, it's You-Know-Who's symbol, Ron," said Hermione, still rather angrily and before anyone else could answer. "I read about it in _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts."_

"And it hasn't been seen for thirteen years," said Mr Weasley quietly. "Of course people panicked . . . it was almost like seeing You-Know-Who back again."

"I don't get it," said Ron, frowning. "I mean . . . it's still only a shape in the sky. . . ." Jesse has shifted himself so that his chair was next to Hermione's and he could comfort her.

"Ron, You-Know-Who and his followers sent the Dark Mark into the air whenever they killed," said Mr Weasley. "The terror it inspired . . . you have no idea, you're too young. Just picture coming home and finding the Dark Mark hovering over your house, and knowing what you're about to find inside. . . ." Mr Weasley winced. "Everyone's worst fear . . . the very worst . . ."

There was silence for a moment. Then Bill, removing the sheet from his arm to check on his cut, said,

"Well, it didn't help us tonight, whoever conjured it. It scared the Death Eaters away the moment they saw it. They all Disapparated before we'd got near enough to unmask any of them. We caught the Roberts's before they hit the ground, though. They're having their memories modified right now."

"Death Eaters?" said Harry, voicing Amara's question. "What are Death Eaters?"

"It's what You-Know-Who's supporters called themselves," said Bill. "I think we saw what's left of them tonight — the ones who managed to keep themselves out of Azkaban, anyway."

"We can't prove it was them, Bill," said Mr Weasley. "Though it probably was," he added hopelessly.

"Yeah, I bet it was!" said Ron suddenly. "Dad, we met Draco Malfoy in the woods, and he as good as told us his dad was one of those nutters in masks! And we all know the Malfoys were right in with You-Know-Who!"

"But what were Voldemort's supporters —" Harry began. Everybody flinched except Amara, who was tying her shoelace back up. "Sorry," said Harry quickly. "What were You-Know-Who's supporters up to, levitating Muggles? I mean, what was the point?"

"The point?" said Mr Weasley with a hollow laugh. "Harry, that's their idea of fun. Half the Muggle killings back when You- Know-Who was in power were done for fun. I suppose they had a few drinks tonight and couldn't resist reminding us all that lots of them are still at large. A nice little reunion for them," he finished disgustedly.

"That's disgusting," said Amara and everybody nodded.

"But if they _were_ the Death Eaters, why did they Disapparate when they saw the Dark Mark?" said Ron. "They'd have been pleased to see it, wouldn't they?"

"Use your brains, Ron," said Bill. "If they really were Death Eaters, they worked very hard to keep out of Azkaban when You- Know-Who lost power, and told all sorts of lies about him forcing them to kill and torture people. I bet they'd be even more fright- ened than the rest of us to see him come back. They denied they'd ever been involved with him when he lost his powers, and went back to their daily lives. . . . I don't reckon he'd be over-pleased with them, do you?"

"So . . . whoever conjured the Dark Mark . . ." said Hermione slowly, "were they doing it to show support for the Death Eaters, or to scare them away?"

"Your guess is as good as ours, Hermione," said Mr Weasley. "But I'll tell you this . . . it was only the Death Eaters who ever knew how to conjure it. I'd be very surprised if the person who did it hadn't been a Death Eater once, even if they're not now. . . . Listen, it's very late, and if your mother hears what's happened she'll be worried sick. We'll get a few more hours sleep and then try and get an early Portkey out of here."

Amara, Hermione, Ginny and the Reynolds said goodnight before going outside the tent. It was very dark with only the embers of the fire left and no one was around.

"Are you alright Jesse?" Amara asked as Noah helped his brother limp out.

"I think I sprained or broke my ankle," said Jesse. "It's alright, Dad'll fix it up in the morning. Hope to see you guys soon."

Jesse's hug lingered on Hermione as Amara said goodbye to the others with Ginny.

"See you next summer," said Amara.

"Sure will," said Jesse. "This is my last year remember? I'm planning to move here after I leave with some friends."

"Alright then," grinned Amara and the family walked away, Hermione looking rather sad.

"Don't worry Hermione," said Ginny. "He'll be back next year."

"It's not fair," said Hermione as they went into the tent. "He lives ages away."

"Has he asked you out?" Ginny said and Amara realised they were all trying to stop thinking about the nights events.

"No," muttered Hermione.

"He better do it soon," said Amara. "Do you still write to him?" They were back in their beds with the lights off by now.

"Every other day," said Hermione.

There was a pause.

"That's commitment," said Ginny. "We better go to sleep now," she said as an afterthought. Dad wants to leave early tomorrow."

And so the three girls were left to their own thoughts. Amara felt awake now that the events were coming back to her, thoughts were running amok in her head. It wasn't until Hermione and Ginny's soft breathing echoed around the tent that Amara was finally able to be lulled to sleep.


	10. Mayhem at the Ministry

**_A/N Helloo again! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter - Thank You so much to the people who reviewed! :) :) And for a Guest a while back - I don't have Face Claims, I just know what they sort of look like in my head :) Anyways, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I _****know ****_some of you want Amara/Fred action but you have to be patient! xD I'm trying but it hasn't got very far yet :( So they'll be a few experiences before anything major happens. Please R&R! xxx_**

**_Chapter Ten_**

**_Mayhem and the Ministry_**

It was only a few hours of sleep that Amara managed to have before Mr Weasley woke them all up again. Instead of taking the tent down manually, Mr Weasley used magic to take it down and put in his rucksack. Rucksacks on, they hurried out of the campsite, where a few tents were still smouldering, passed Mr Roberts' house (Mr Roberts himself wished them a Merry Christmas) and onto the moor.

"He'll be all right," said Mr. Weasley quietly. "Sometimes, when a person's memory's modified, it makes him a bit disorientated for a while . . . and that was a big thing they had to make him forget."

A large number of witches and wizards were gathered where the Portkeys were situated. They were all urgently talking to a hassled-looking Basil, the man who looked after the Portkeys, and were trying to get away from the campsite as quickly as possible. After Mr Weasley had a hurried discussion with Basil, they joined the back of the queue to wait for a Portkey. They were silent whilst they waited, all of them pale and shifting restlessly on their feet. Luckily, they managed to get a Portkey to Stoatshead Hill before the sun had come up completely. They walked back through the familiar lanes of Ottery St. Catchpole, thinking longingly of breakfast and not talking much. Amara dragged her feet along the ground slowly, so Charlie came back and tugged her along by her rucksack.

As they turned the corner (Amara had gotten the energy to walk again) into the lane that led to Burrow, a cry echoed from the lane.

"Oh thank goodness, thank goodness!"

Mrs Weasley, who had evidently been waiting for them in the front yard, came running toward them, still wearing her bedroom slippers, her face pale and strained, a rolled-up copy of the _Daily Prophet_ clutched in her hand.

"Arthur — I've been so worried — _so worried_ —"

She flung her arms around Mr Weasley's neck, and the Daily Prophet fell out of her limp hand onto the ground. The group looked down and read the headline. _SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_, complete with a twinkling black-and- white photograph of the Dark Mark over the treetops.

"You're all right," Mrs Weasley muttered distractedly, releasing Mr Weasley and staring around at them all with red eyes, "you're alive. . . . Oh _boys_ . . ."

And to everybody's surprise, she seized Fred and George and pulled them both into such a tight hug that their heads banged together. Amara snorted as they rubbed their foreheads.

"Ouch! Mum — you're strangling us —"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley said, starting to sob. "It's all I've been thinking about! What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough O.W.L.s? Oh Fred . . . George . . ."

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay," said Mr Weasley soothingly, prising her off Fred and George, who massaged their heads, and leading her back toward the house. "Bill," he added in an undertone, "pick up that paper, I want to see what it says. . . ."

When they were all crammed into the tiny kitchen, and Hermione had made Mrs Weasley a cup of very strong tea, into which Mr Weasley insisted on pouring a shot of Ogdens Old Firewhiskey, Bill handed his father the newspaper. Mr Weasley scanned the front page while Percy looked nosily over his shoulder. They all waited for him to finish (Mrs Weasley hiccupping occasionally).

"I knew it," said Mr Weasley heavily. "_Ministry blunders . . . culprits not apprehended . . . lax security . . . Dark wizards running unchecked . . . national disgrace_ . . . Who wrote this? Ah . . . of course . . . Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" said Percy furiously. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't specifically stated in paragraph twelve of the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans —"

"Do us a favour, Perce," said Bill, yawning, "and shut up." Amara cracked up with Fred and George.

"I'm mentioned," said Mr. Weasley, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he reached the bottom of the _Daily Prophet_ article.

"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: _'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged sometime after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumours that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen._' Oh really," said Mr. Weasley in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy, who took it eagerly. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? _Rumours that several bodies were re- moved from the woods_ . . . well, there certainly will be rumours now she's printed that."

He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person."

He bustled out of the kitchen and Amara rolled her eyes. Nobody cared about his stupid cauldron report. Mrs Weasley looked most upset at the news.

"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off. . . ."

"Mrs Weasley," said Harry suddenly, alerting all of them. "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "No . . . no, there hasn't been any post at all."

Amara looked curiously at Harry with Ron and Hermione. He gave them all a meaningful glance before saying: "All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah . . . think I will too," said Ron at once. "Hermione? Amara?"

"Yes," Hermione said quickly.

"Sure," said Amara and they all marched out the kitchen, down the hallway and up the stairs.

"What's up, Harry?" said Ron, the moment they had closed the door of the attic room behind them.

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry said. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

Amara and Hermione gasped. Hermione started listing every book she'd ever read and mentioning random wizards and witches. Ron looked dumbstruck and Amara's mouth was still open.

"But the last time your scar hurt was because he was _near _you," said Amara. "Does that mean … does that mean he was near you then?"

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," said Harry. "But I was dreaming about him . . . him and Peter — you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill . . . someone."

Amara raised her eyebrows at the 'someone'. The way Harry had hesitated made it sound like he was keeping something back. How could Harry see this, though? Imagine dreaming what someone was doing …

"It was only a dream," said Ron bracingly. "Just a nightmare."

"Yeah, but was it, though?" said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. The sun was finally rising and the sunlight was filtering into the small window. "It's weird, isn't it? . . . My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again."

"Don't — say — his — name!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth.

"And remember what Professor Trelawney said?" Harry went on, ignoring Ron. "At the end of last year?"

Amara and Hermione looked at each other. Hermione snorted in disbelief.

"Oh Harry, you aren't going to pay attention to anything that old fraud says?" and Amara nodded in agreement.

"You weren't there," said Harry. "You didn't hear her. This time was different. I told you, she went into a trance — a real one. And she said the Dark Lord would rise again . . . _greater and more terrible than ever before_ . . . and he'd manage it because his servant was going to go back to him . . . and that night Wormtail escaped."

There was a silence in which Ron fidgeted absentmindedly with a hole in his Chudley Cannons bedspread. Amara watched as it got slightly bigger in the process.

"Why were you asking if Hedwig had come, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you expecting a letter?"

"I told Sirius about my scar," said Harry, shrugging. "I'm waiting for his answer."

"Good thinking!" said Ron, his expression clearing and he stopped fiddling with the hole in the duvet. "I bet Sirius'll know what to do!"

"I hoped he'd get back to me quickly," said Harry.

"But we don't know where Sirius is . . . he could be in Africa or somewhere, couldn't he?" said Hermione reasonably. "Hedwig's not going to manage _that_ journey in a few days."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry but he looked down.

"It will come," said Amara, smiling. "He'll tell us what to do."

"Come and have a game of Quidditch in the orchard, Harry," said Ron. "Come on — three on three, Bill and Charlie and Fred and George will play. . . . Amara, you can too if you want – we can go on both your brooms! You can try out the Wronski Feint. . . ."

"Ron," said Hermione, in an I-don't-think-you're-being-very-sensitive sort of voice, "Harry doesn't want to play Quidditch right now. . . . He's worried, and he's tired. . . . We all need to go to bed. . . ."

"Yeah, I want to play Quidditch," said Harry suddenly. "Hang on, I'll get my Firebolt."

"I'm alright," said Amara. "I'll just make the numbers awkward. You can play on my broom though, Ron." She followed Hermione out the room, who had muttered under her breath '_Boys' _as she did so.

-OOOOO-

Neither Mr. Weasley nor Percy was at home much over the following week, which made Mrs Weasley a little upset, but the others rejoiced with no Percy. Both left the house each morning before the rest of the family got up, and returned well after dinner every night.

Mrs Weasley, Hermione, Amara and Ginny were all planning to go to Diagon Alley the Sunday before they returned to go to Hogwarts. Their supplies lists had come and Amara and Hermione couldn't let Mrs Weasley get it all by herself, _and _on the list were 'dress robes' for 'special occasions', which they needed to get. Mrs Weasley had told them only Ron and Harry needed some because Fred and George were using Bill and Charlie's relatively new ones. Amara, Hermione and Ginny were also going to by some. For Amara, Hermione, Harry and Ron, they only needed two new books: _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4 _and _The Dark Forces: A Guide for Self-Protection. _The others, however, needed more.

They got up reasonably early that Sunday, before Harry, Ron, Fred, George, Bill or Charlie, and Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. Amara hated Flooing anywhere, it was uncomfortable and annoying. The four of them made their way into the cobbled streets quickly. It was rather packed, because everyone was trying to do last-minute shopping for school. They went into Gringotts first, to exchange money for Amara and Hermione, and Mrs Weasley to get money out of their account and Harry's account. After fifteen minutes, they made it back out, and went straight to Flourish and Blotts, to get all the books. It was very hard to get all the books, and they had three overflowing bags by the end of it. Next, they went into Madam Malkin's, so that Mrs Weasley could get Harry, Ron, Fred and George's robes hemmed a little to make them longer. Amara herself got a new Hogwarts robe, before her, Hermione and Ginny browsed around, looking at all the pretty dresses and dress robes.

Hermione found hers relatively quickly. Hers was a pretty dress made out a floaty, periwinkle blue material. Amara was pickier. After discarding yet another dress, she realised she was becoming like Adeline Page, the sweet, but dim girl that Jesse knew. She found a very nice dress in deep purple, which was also very floaty and floor-length. It had a pretty jewelled bodice with purple sleeves. It was a little more expensive than Amara had intended, but she brought it anyway.

They split off after that. Mrs Weasley and Ginny had to go to the Second-Hand Robe shop for Ron (Mrs Weasley had picked out a nice, bottle-green pair of dress robes for Harry in Madam Malkin's) whilst Amara and Hermione went to the Apothecary for themselves and Harry, who needed more potion supplies. After trying not to look at the disgusting things on the shelves, which also reminded them of Snape's Potions Classroom, they stocked up on Parchment and Quills as well.

"I wonder what we'll need the dresses for," said Amara as they walked along. "We've never been asked to buy them before."

"Must be something important," said Hermione. "Some sort of formal party."

-OOOOO-

"It's been an absolute uproar," Percy told them importantly that Sunday evening. "I've been putting out fires all week. People keep sending Howlers, and of course, if you don't open a Howler straight away, it explodes. Scorch marks all over my desk and my best quill reduced to cinders."

"Why are they all sending Howlers?" asked Ginny, who was mending her copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs_ and Fungi with Spellotape on the rug in front of the living room fire.

"Complaining about security at the World Cup," said Percy. "They want compensation for their ruined property. Mundungus Fletcher's put in a claim for a twelve-bedroomed tent with en-suite Jacuzzi, but I've got his number. I know for a fact he was sleeping under a cloak propped on sticks."

Mrs Weasley glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was a very interesting clock, though rather useless if you wanted to know the time. It had nine golden hands, and each of them was engraved with one of the Weasley family's names. There were no numerals around the face, but descriptions of where each family member might be. "Home," "school," and "work" were there, but there was also "lost," "hospital," "prison," and, in the position where the number twelve would be on a normal clock, "mortal peril."

Eight of the hands were currently pointing to the "home" position, but Mr Weasley's, which was the longest, was still pointing at "work." Mrs Weasley sighed.

"Your father hasn't had to go into the office on weekends since the days of You-Know-Who," she said. "They're working him far too hard. His dinner's going to be ruined if he doesn't come home soon."

"Well, Father feels he's got to make up for his mistake at the match, doesn't he?" said Percy. "If truth be told, he was a tad un- wise to make a public statement without clearing it with his Head of Department first —"

"Don't you dare blame your father for what that wretched Skeeter woman wrote!" said Mrs. Weasley, flaring up at once.

"If Dad hadn't said anything, old Rita would just have said it was disgraceful that nobody from the Ministry had commented," said Bill, who was playing chess with Ron, because Amara got annoyed with him for winning too much. "Rita Skeeter never makes anyone look good. Remember, she interviewed all the Gringotts' Charm Breakers once, and called me 'a long-haired pillock'?"

"Well, it _is_ a bit long, dear," said Mrs. Weasley gently. "If you'd just let me —"

"_No_, Mum."

It was raining outside, but very cosy inside. Hermione was immersed in _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4, _Amara was helping Charlie darn his fireproof balaclava, because he was rubbish at it and Harry was trying to polish his Firebolt with the Broomstick Service Kit Hermione had got for him, but he couldn't seem to find any particular marks, so he was cleaning it all over before moving onto Amara's, which needed a lot more cleaning. Fred and George were sitting in the corner and talking in whispers, quills out and not looking at anyone.

"What are you two up to?" said Mrs Weasley sharply, her eyes on the twins.

"Homework," said Fred vaguely.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're still on holiday," said Mrs Weasley. "Yeah, we've left it a bit late," said George.

"You're not by any chance writing out a new _order form_, are you?" said Mrs. Weasley shrewdly. "You wouldn't be thinking of re- starting _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes_, by any chance?"

"Now, Mum," said Fred, looking up at her, a pained look on his face. "If the Hogwarts Express crashed tomorrow, and George and I died, how would you feel to know that the last thing we ever heard from you was an unfounded accusation?"

Everyone laughed, even Mrs Weasley.

"Oh your father's coming!" she said suddenly, looking up at the clock again.

Mr. Weasley's hand had suddenly spun from "work" to "traveling"; a second later it had shuddered to a halt on "home" with the others, and they heard him calling from the kitchen.

"Coming, Arthur!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying out of the room.

A few moments later, Mr Weasley came into the warm living room carrying his dinner on a tray. He looked completely exhausted.

"Well, the fat's really in the fire now," he told Mrs Weasley (and everyone else, who were listening too) as he sat down in an armchair near the hearth and toyed unenthusiastically with his somewhat shrivelled cauliflower. "Rita Skeeter's been ferreting around all week, looking for more Ministry mess-ups to report. And now she's found out about poor old Bertha going missing, so that'll be the headline in the _Prophet _tomorrow. I _told_ Bagman he should have sent someone to look for her ages ago."

"Mr Crouch has been saying it for weeks and weeks," said Percy swiftly and Amara wanted to hex him.

"Crouch is very lucky Rita hasn't found out about Winky," said Mr Weasley irritably. "There'd be a week's worth of headlines in his house-elf being caught holding the wand that conjured the Dark Mark."

"I thought we were all agreed that that elf, while irresponsible, did _not_ conjure the Mark?" said Percy hotly.

"If you ask me, Mr Crouch is very lucky no one at the _Daily Prophet_ knows how mean he is to elves!" said Hermione angrily, and everyone did an inaudible groan.

"Now look here, Hermione!" said Percy. "A high-ranking Ministry official like Mr Crouch deserves unswerving obedience from his servants —"

"His _slave_, you mean!" said Hermione, her voice rising passionately, "because he didn't _pay_ Winky, did he?"

"I think you'd all better go upstairs and check that you've packed properly!" said Mrs Weasley, breaking up the argument. "Come on now, all of you. . . ."

Amara and Ginny did not fancy going upstairs with a still-fuming Hermione, so they left it five minutes so that Amara could help Charlie finish his balaclava before going upstairs.

All the packages they had bought from Diagon Alley were on their beds, so putting them away in the trunks after unwrapping them was easy. Amara opened up her new potion supplies, books, quills, parchment and a new, special kind of ink that was in bright orange that she had decided to try out for things other than homework.

Amara placed all her clothes and Hogwarts stuff inside the trunk neatly, with her telescope and cauldron and all her potion supplies. Mrs Weasley came in with an enormous pile of Hogwarts Robes and handed them back to the girls. She still had a huge pile left as she bustled out again, going up the stairs to give them back to Fred, George, Harry and Ron.


	11. Back to Hogwarts

**_A/N Hello again! Thanks for all the reviews from the last chapter, they made me very happy. You asked it to be updated, so here it is! I plan to update on Saturday as well, so fingers crossed for that! R&R xxx_**

**_Chapter Eleven_**

**_Back to Hogwarts_**

The next morning Mrs Weasley woke them fairly early. Amara, Hermione and Ginny got up quickly, however, because they still had a bit of last-minute packing to do. Amara changed out of her pyjamas into a pair of light-wash jeans and a purple jumper and made sure that her school robes and uniform were at the top of her trunk, on top of her new dress, so that they were easy to get out on the train.

Looking outside, Amara found that it was raining rather heavily, which made the end of the holidays gloom more pronounce. She couldn't believe her time at the Weasley's had gone so fast! After finishing her packing, Amara left Ginny's room the same time as Bill and Charlie came down from Fred and George's room.

"Good morning Amara Belle," Charlie greeted. "

"Morning Charles," Amara grinned back. "Morning William."

The summer had definitely improved her relationship between the two older Weasley's. They were now rather good friends, and Amara found that Charlie was rather like Fred and George, though with less of the pranks, and Bill was a little like Ron, but knew a lot about things and acted his age (most of the time).

"You look rather down," said Charlie. "What's the matter?"

"End of the holidays," said Amara, pouting. "It's gone too fast."

"Ahh," said Bill. "The end of the holidays gloom." He and Charlie shared a knowing glance.

"We got it all the time," said Charlie. "C'mon, we must have something left to cheer you up."

Amara laughed. "Did you get it too?"

"Of course," said Bill. "But I think you'll enjoy this year."

"Why?" Amara said.

"No reason," said Bill, winking. Amara frowned.

"You're never going to tell me, are you?"

"Nope," said Bill as they walked down the stairs. "You'll find out soon though."

"Are you going back to Romania and Egypt?" Amara asked as loud voices were heard from the kitchen. They paid them no heed and instead stood in the living room, waiting for them to stop.

"Probably," said Charlie. "I think I'll have to go back - maybe I'll come back for Christmas, seeing as everyone will probably stay at Hogwarts."

"I don't know," said Bill. "I like being back here. Maybe I'll stay."

"I like it in Romania," said Charlie. "My friends are over there."

"Friend? As in dragons?" Bill said and Amara laughed.

"Shut up," grinned Charlie.

"What's going on in the kitchen?" Amara said, as the talking continued. There was a pop and a definite lull in the harassed talking. Mr Weasley then shouted goodbye to them all.

"No idea," said Bill, "let's go see, I'm starving." The smell of toast was getting to Amara too, so she followed them.

"Of course I will," Mrs Weasley was saying. "You just look after Mad-Eye and we'll be fine."

Bill, Charlie and Amara walked into the kitchen just as Mr Weasley vanished through the door. Harry, Ron, Fred and George were already in the kitchen with Mrs Weasley. Mrs Weasley was looking slightly stressed whilst Harry, Ron, Fred and George were all starting on the pack of toast on the table.

"Did someone say Mad-Eye?" Bill asked as the three of them walked in. "What's he been up to now?"

"He says someone tried to break into his house last night," said Mrs Weasley.

"Mad-Eye Moody?" said George thoughtfully, spreading marmalade on his third bit of toast since the three of them had entered. "Isn't he that nutter —"

"Your father thinks very highly of Mad-Eye Moody," said Mrs Weasley sternly, before bustling out to find Hermione and Ginny.

At the same time, Fred said quietly: "Yeah, well, Dad collects plugs, doesn't he? Birds of a feather . . ."

"Moody was a great wizard in his time," said Bill, sitting down next to Amara and grabbing some toast off of her plate. Amara scowled and took another piece.

"He's an old friend of Dumbledore's, isn't he?" said Charlie, sitting the other side of Amara and taking that bit of toast as well. They were both trying not to grin as Amara scowled even more and took another bit of toast, biting into it straight away. "Dumbledore's not what you'd call normal, though, is he?" said

Fred. "I mean, I know he's a genius and everything . . ."

"Who is Mad-Eye?" asked Harry and Amara finally was able to tune into the conversation fully.

"He's retired, used to work at the Ministry," said Charlie. "I met

him once when Dad took me into work with him. He was an Auror — one of the best . . . a Dark wizard catcher," he added, seeing Harry's blank look. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him. He made himself loads of enemies, though . . . the families of people he caught, mainly . . . and I heard he's been getting really paranoid in his old age. Doesn't trust anyone anymore. Sees Dark wizards everywhere."

Mrs Weasley came back in with Percy, Hermione and Ginny, so their conversations moved swiftly on to something more light-hearted.

Bill and Charlie decided to come and see everyone off at King's Cross station, but Percy, apologizing most profusely, said that he really needed to get to work.

"I just can't justify taking more time off at the moment," he told them, Amara trying and failing to put on a look of sadness. "Mr Crouch is really starting to rely on me."

"Yeah, you know what, Percy?" said George seriously. "I reckon he'll know your name soon."

This made everyone snort slightly, all of them trying to cover it up before Percy or Mrs Weasley latched on.

Mrs Weasley had decided to get some ordinary Muggle taxis, and had rung them on the telephone in the village to take them to King's Cross.

Amara waited with the others in the rain, her coat hood on her head as the rain kept tumbling down on them.

The Muggle taxi drivers were very grumpy. This might have been the fact that they had to transport Pigwidgeon, who was making an awful racket and Archimedes, who was trying to make Pigwidgeon shut up. Also, when the driver was carrying Fred's trunk to the car, it sprung open and a few Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks went off with such a bang it spooked Crookshanks to now end. He found comfort in crawling up the driver's leg, which made him yell out in pain.

It was squashed and very uncomfortable in the car. Harry, Ron, Amara and Hermione were jammed in, trunks, owls and all. Crookshanks gave them even more to deal with, by scratching them all severely.

It was a relief to get out at King's Cross, however it was raining even more in London, and it got them soaked just walking into the station.

They all went in groups to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry, Ron and Hermione went first with Pigwidgeon and Crookshanks, and Amara went with Bill and Charlie, who held Archimedes, who was rather annoyed at Pigwidgeon and his racket the whole journey.

When they arrived, the Hogwarts Express was already there in it's gleaming, scarlet glory, billowing steam across the whole platform.

Meeting up with Harry, Ron and Hermione, the four of them hurried off to find seats on the train. They found a nice spot in the middle of it, so they stowed their luggage away and hopped back off the train so they could say goodbye to Mrs Weasley, Bill and Charlie.

"I might be seeing you all sooner than you think," said Charlie, grinning, as he hugged Ginny good-bye.

"Why?" said Fred keenly.

"You'll see," said Charlie, now hugging Amara goodbye. "Just don't tell Percy I mentioned it . . . it's 'classified information, until such time as the Ministry sees fit to release it,' after all."

"Yeah, I sort of wish I were back at Hogwarts this year," said Bill, hands in his pockets, looking almost wistfully at the train, finished with his goodbyes with his family, Amara, Harry and Hermione.

_"__Why?"_ said George impatiently.

"You're going to have an interesting year," said Bill, his eyes twinkling. "I might even get time off to come and watch a bit of it. . . ."

"A bit of _what?_" said Ron.

But at that moment, the whistle blew, and Mrs Weasley chivvied them toward the train doors.

"Thanks for having us to stay, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione as they climbed on board, closed the door, and leaned out of the window to talk to her.

"Yeah, thanks for everything, Mrs Weasley," said Harry.

"Thanks for letting me stay so long," Amara grinned.

"Oh it was my pleasure, dears," said Mrs Weasley. "I'd invite you for Christmas, but . . . well, I expect you're all going to want to stay at Hogwarts, what with . . . one thing and another."

"Mum!" said Ron irritably. "What d'you three know that we don't?"

"You'll find out this evening, I expect," said Mrs Weasley, smiling. "It's going to be very exciting — mind you, I'm very glad they've changed the rules —"

"What rules?" said Amara, Harry, Ron, Fred, and George together.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will tell you. . . . Now, behave, won't you? _Won't_ you, Fred? And you, George?"

The pistons hissed loudly and the train began to move.

"Tell us what's happening at Hogwarts!" Fred bellowed out of the window as Mrs Weasley, Bill, and Charlie sped away from them. "What rules are they changing?"

But Mrs Weasley only smiled and waved. Before the train had rounded the corner, she, Bill, and Charlie had Disapparated.

All seven of the sighed in annoyance before going their separate ways. Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione went back to their compartment. The thick rain splattering the windows made it very difficult to see out of them. Ron undid his trunk, pulled out his new maroon dress robes, which he had no liking for, and flung them over Pigwidgeon's cage to muffle his hooting.

"Bagman wanted to tell us what's happening at Hogwarts," he said grumpily, sitting down next to Harry. "At the World Cup, remember? But my own mother won't say. Wonder what —"

"Shh!" Hermione whispered suddenly, pressing her finger to her lips and pointing toward the compartment next to theirs. Amara, Harry and Ron listened, and heard a very familiar, very drawling voice drifting in through the open door.

". . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore — the man's such a Mudblood-lover — and Durmstrang doesn't admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn't like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually _learn_ them, not just the defence rubbish we do. . . ."

Hermione got up, tiptoed to the compartment door, and slid it shut, blocking out Malfoy's voice.

"So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?" she said angrily. "I wish he _had _gone, then we wouldn't have to put up with him."

"Durmstrang's another wizarding school?" said Harry.

"Yeah," said Amara, remembering reading it from one of Hermione's books. "Apparently it has an awful reputation there. Has a lot to do with the Dark Arts, Durmstrang does."

"I think I've heard of it," said Ron vaguely. "Where is it? What country?"

"Well, nobody knows, do they?" said Hermione, raising her eyebrows.

"Er — why not?" said Harry.

"There's traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets," said Hermione matter-of-factly.

"Come off it," said Ron, starting to laugh. "Durmstrang's got to be about the same size as Hogwarts — how are you going to hide a great big castle?"

"But Hogwarts is hidden," said Hermione, in surprise and Amara laughed. "Everyone knows that . . . well, everyone who's read _Hogwarts, A History_, anyway."

"Just you, then," said Ron. "So go on — how d'you hide a place like Hogwarts?"

"It's bewitched," said Hermione. "If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a mouldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying danger, do not enter, unsafe."

"So Durmstrang'll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?"

"Maybe," said Hermione, shrugging, "or it might have Muggle- repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they'll have made it Unplottable —"

"Come again?"

"Well, you can enchant a building so it's impossible to plot on a map, can't you?"

"Er . . . if you say so," said Harry.

"But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north," said Hermione thoughtfully. "Somewhere very cold, because they've got fur capes as part of their uniforms."

"Or up a mountain," said Amara. "Beauxbatons is near the Pyrenees."

"Ah, think of the possibilities," said Ron dreamily. "It would've been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. . . . Shame his mother likes him. . . ."

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Harry bought a large stack of Cauldron Cakes for them to share, whilst Amara bought some chocolate frogs to keep her spirits up. She was disappointed to see that the trolley had yet to have Chocoballs, her favourite sweet, there.

Their Gryffindor classmates saw them as the afternoon progressed. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan came into see them first and then Neville Longbottom. They all talked eagerly about the Quidditch World Cup and Ireland's win. Seamus was even still wearing his Ireland rosette, which was shouting the names of the players rather feebly now.

After half an hour or so, Hermione, growing tired of the endless Quidditch talk, buried herself once more in _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4_, and started trying to learn a Summoning Charm, but Amara, who was into Quidditch, though not as religiously as the boys, still sat and talked.

Neville listened jealously to the others' conversation as they re- lived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville. . . ."

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum that he had brought with him.

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand. Krum walked all around it, looking rather grumpy still.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box —"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

Draco Malfoy, pale and blonde, had appeared in the doorway. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, his enormous, thuggish cronies, both of whom appeared to have grown at least a foot during the summer. This made Amara look like a dwarf compared to them, and she hoped she'd never have to fight them in her life, like she had hexed them in her first year. It didn't look like it would affect them anymore. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly.

"Weasley . . . what is _that?_" said Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon's cage. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the mouldy lace cuff very obvious.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle, "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean — they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety. . . ."

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same colour as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly.

"So . . . going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know . . . you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won. . . ."

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron.

_"__Are you going to enter_?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose _you_ will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Shove off, Malfoy," Amara said, irritated. "Or explain what the hell you're on about."

A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face.

"Don't tell me you don't _know_?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even _know?_ My God_, my_ father told me about it ages ago . . . heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry. . . . Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley . . . yes . . . they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him. . . ."

Amara got her wand out of her back pocket but Hermione pinned her arm down as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle walked out laughing. Ron got to his feet and slammed the compartment door shut, smashing the glass as he did so.

_"__Ron!"_ said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "_Reparo!_" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door.

"Well . . . making it look like he knows everything and we don't. . . ." Ron snarled. " _'Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry.'_. . . Dad could've got a promotion any time . . . he just likes it where he is. . . ."

"We know, Ron," said Amara, just as angry as him.

"Of course he does," said Hermione quietly. "Don't let Malfoy get to you, Ron —"

"Him! Get to me!? As if!" said Ron, picking up one of the remaining Cauldron Cakes and squashing it into a pulp.

Ron's bad mood continued for the rest of the journey. Ethan popped in to say hello during that time, but did not stay long with Ron's scowl. When Amara and Hermione went and got changed into their robes, they got a bit if relief from the angry vibe in their carriage. Ron was still glowering when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder over- head. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. Amara covered Archimedes the best she could in the rain, but her robes were not big enough. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice- cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

"Hi, Hagrid!" Harry yelled at the gig antics silhouette if the giant, who was waiting for the first years to take over the lake.

"All righ', Harry?" Hagrid bellowed back, waving. "See yeh at the feast if we don' drown!"

"Oooh, I wouldn't fancy crossing the lake in this weather," said Hermione fervently, shivering as they inched slowly along the dark, tiny platform with the rest of the crowd that were making their way to the track with the carriages.

A hundred carriages stood waiting for them. Thestrals pulled them, which only could be seen by those who had seen death. Amara has found this out in her second year, for she could see them too. They were weird creatures, strangely pretty, but Amara paid no attention to them as she, Hermione, Ron, Harry and Neville hurried into one. The rain was pouring down so heavily they wanted to get into the castle as quickly as possible.

The door of the carriage snapped shut and in one, the carriages moved off up the winding path to the castle on the cliff top.


	12. The Triwizard Tournament

**_A/N Thank you for all the lovely reviews! ^.^ I hope you enjoy this chapter! :):) xxx_**

**_Chapter Twelve _**

**_The Triwizard Tournament_**

The carriages trundled up the beaten track, passed through the gates and up the sweeping drive of the Hogwarts castle. There was lightening now as the carriages moved on. It flashed across the sky, lighting up the dimly lit carriage they were in. Harry was looking out the rain streaked window at the massive form of Hogwarts castle, whilst Amara shivered slightly in her wet robes. They didn't talk for the carriage ride – all of them were thinking longingly of the warm Great Hall and the delicious banquet they were going to have after the Sorting Ceremony.

They stopped at the bottom of the stone steps that led up to the castle, and the five of them shot out the carriage quickly, running up the stone steps with the other crowds students fighting their way in the gale.

"Blimey," said Ron, when they had entered the Entrance Hall, which was lit with hundreds of torches. He shook his head and sent water flying everywhere, "if that keeps up the lake's going to overflow. I'm soak — ARRGH!"

A large, red, water-filled balloon had dropped from out of the ceiling onto Ron's head and exploded. Drenched and sputtering, Ron staggered sideways into Harry, just as a second water bomb dropped — narrowly missing Hermione and Amara, who both jumped back as it burst on Harry's trainers. People all around them shrieked and started pushing one another in their efforts to get out of the line of fire and into the Great Hall. Amara looked up angrily to find the culprit and was not surprised to see Peeves the Poltergeist, in his little bell-top hat, floating in the air, looking evil and aiming a water balloon at a bunch of third-years.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!"

Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and head of Gryffindor House, had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling.

"Ouch — sorry, Miss Granger —"

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat as Amara tried not to laugh.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed loudly and dived into the Great Hall before they got even more wet. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived from the rain.

"I shall call the headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves —"

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely. Amara dodged a yellow balloon before it hit her.

"Well, move along, then!" said Professor McGonagall sharply to the bedraggled crowd. "Into the Great Hall, come on!"

Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right, Ron muttering furiously under his breath as he pushed his sopping hair off his face.

The Great Hall was decorated for the start-of-term feast: there were hundreds upon hundreds of floating candles above their heads, making the golden plates and goblets gleam proudly. The tables were already packed with students, all very wet, but chattering happily all the same. Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked past three of the tables before sitting down with the rest of the Gryffindors. They sat next to the Gryffindor Ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, whose head had not come off yet, and was being concealed with a very large ruff.

"Good evening," he said, beaming at them.

"Says who?" said Harry, taking off his trainers and emptying them of water. "Hope they hurry up with the Sorting. I'm starving."

"So am I," groaned Amara. She waved at Ethan and one of his best friends, Edward McKenzie down the table. His other best friends, Piper, Eddie's twin, and Felicity Cartright, who preferred to be called 'Flick', were sat at the Ravenclaw table, chatting to some boy Amara didn't know. She also saw Roger Malone sitting at the table, which made her giggle and turn away. He had been looking over to where Sophie Roper, a girl from their dorm was sitting.

"Hiya, Harry!"

It was Colin Creevey, a boy in Ginny's year who was very annoying and worshipped Harry.

"Hi, Colin," said Harry warily.

"Harry, guess what? Guess what, Harry? My brother's starting! My brother Dennis!"

"Er — good," said Harry.

"He's really excited!" said Colin, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. "I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?"

"Er — yeah, all right," said Harry. He turned back to Amara, Hermione, Ron, and Nearly Headless Nick. "Brothers and sisters usually go in the same Houses, don't they?" he said.

"Oh no, not necessarily," said Hermione. "Parvati Patil's twin's in Ravenclaw, and they're identical. You'd think they'd be together, wouldn't you?"

"And Eddie's twin is in Ravenclaw," added Amara.

"And you'd've thought she'd be in Gryffindor," said Ron. "She's so … bouncy."

They all seemed to look up at the teachers table then. There were quite a few empty seats that Amara didn't know who were for. Hagrid was still with the first years and McGonagall had yet to return from the flooded Entrance Hall. There was one empty chair after that, which had to be for the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, who hadn't seemed to have arrived yet.

"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione,

"Maybe he hasn't arrived yet," said Amara.

"But what if they couldn't get anyone?" said Hermione, looking way too anxious.

"Then another teacher would do it, I guess," said Amara. "I'm sure they've got someone."

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" said Hermione, looking anxious.

Amara looked away from the teachers and looked up into the ceiling. She looked down relatively quickly, because there were swirling black and purple clouds that did not look like they were very friendly. There were no stars and no moon on the ceiling, which Amara preferred to look at.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, beside Harry, "I could eat a hippogriff."

Then, the Great Hall doors opened again and the first years followed Professor McGonagall into the Hall, looking very nervous and slightly sick. They all lined up at the end of the Hall, next to the staff table. They looked as though they had swum, rather than sailed, across the lake. Amara felt relatively dry by looking at just how soaked the first years were. All of them were shivering, which didn't help with their nerves, except one boy, who was the smallest of the lot, who was covered in Hagrid's overcoat. It was so big it could have fit half the first years under it comfortably. This meant that only the boy's head could be seen popping out the collar, looking excited. He caught Colin Creevey's eye, gave a double thumbs-up, and mouthed, '_I fell in the lake!'. _He looked positively delighted about it.

Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard's hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. At least everyone but the first-years knew what they were watching it for. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:

_A thousand years or more ago, When I was newly sewn,  
There lived four wizards of renown,  
Whose names are still well known:  
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.  
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
Thus Hogwarts School began.  
Now each of these four founders  
Formed their own house, for each  
Did value different virtues  
In the ones they had to teach.  
By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
Prized far beyond the rest;  
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
Would always be the best;  
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
Most worthy of admission;  
And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition.  
While still alive they did divide  
Their favourites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?  
'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!  
Now slip me snug about your ears,  
I've never yet been wrong,  
I'll have a look inside your mind  
And tell where you belong!_

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished.

"That's not the song it sang when it Sorted us," said Harry, clapping along with everyone else.

"Sings a different one every year," said Ron. "It's got to be a pretty boring life, hasn't it, being a hat? I suppose it spends all year making up the next one."

Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool," she told the first years. "When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.

"Ackerley, Stewart!"

A boy walked forward, visibly trembling from head to foot, picked up the Sorting Hat, put it on, and sat down on the stool.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the hat.

The boy, Stewart, took off the hat and hurried into a seat at the Ravenclaw table, where everyone was applauding him. Amara clapped politely with the rest.

"Baddock, Malcolm!"

A small, dark haired boy came forwards.

"Slytherin," said Ron and Amara together, playing a game to take their mind off of their hungry stomachs. Harry kept a tally on his fingers.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the other side of the hall erupted with cheers as Amara and Ron high-fived; the Slytherins clapped hard for their newest member, but Fred and George hissed as Malcom Baddock sat down.

"Branstone, Eleanor!"

"Hufflepuff," said Ron.

"Ravenclaw," said Amara.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"_Damn." _

"Yes!"

"Cauldwell, Owen!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Creevey, Dennis!"

Tiny Dennis Creevey staggered forward, tripping over Hagrid's moleskin coat, just as Hagrid himself sidled into the Hall through a door behind the teachers' table. He winked at them as he sat down at the end of the staff table and watched Dennis Creevey putting on the Sorting Hat. The rip at the brim opened wide —

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat shouted.

Hagrid clapped along with the Gryffindors as Dennis Creevey, beaming widely, took off the hat, placed it back on the stool, and hurried over to join his brother.

"Colin, I fell in!" he said shrilly, throwing himself into an empty seat. "It was brilliant! And something in the water grabbed me and pushed me back in the boat!"

"Cool!" said Colin, just as excitedly. "It was probably the giant squid, Dennis!"

_"__Wow!"_ said Dennis, as though nobody in their wildest dreams could hope for more than being thrown into a storm-tossed, fathoms-deep lake, and pushed out of it again by a giant sea monster.

"I have a feeling," said Amara in a low tone to Ron. "That Dennis is going to be ten times weirder, shriller and annoying than his brother."

Ron cracked up, but his smile turned to pain as his stomach rumbled again.

"Dobbs, Emma!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Knew it," muttered Amara.

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L's. It seemed to be taking much longer than usual.

"Oh hurry up," Ron moaned, massaging his stomach.

"Now, Ron, the Sorting's much more important than food," said Nearly Headless Nick as "Madley, Laura!" became a Hufflepuff.

" 'Course it is, if you're dead," snapped Ron.

"I do hope this year's batch of Gryffindors are up to scratch," said Nearly Headless Nick, applauding as "McDonald, Natalie!" joined the Gryffindor table and seemingly not hearing Ron. "We don't want to break our winning streak, do we?"

Gryffindor had won the Inter-House Championship for the last three years in a row. At that moment in time, Amara did not care.

"Pritchard, Graham!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Quirke, Orla!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

And finally, with "Whitby, Kevin!" ("HUFFLEPUFF!"), the

Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away.

"About time," said Ron, seizing his knife and fork and looking expectantly at his golden plate. Amara felt her stomach rumble as Dumbledore got to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.

"I have only two words to say to you," he told them, his deep voice echoing around the Hall. _"Tuck in."_

"Hear, hear!" said Amara, Harry and Ron loudly as the empty dishes filled magically before their eyes.

Amara filled her plate high with Harry and Ron, whilst Hermione took slightly less. She tucked in straight away and was soon chewing on some roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

"Aaah, 'at's be'er," said Ron, with his mouth full of mashed potato.

"You're lucky there's a feast at all tonight, you know," said Nearly Headless Nick. "There was trouble in the kitchens earlier."

"Why? Wha' 'appened?" said Harry, through a sizable chunk of steak. Amara couldn't even say words her mouth was so full.

"Peeves, of course," said Nearly Headless Nick, shaking his head, which wobbled dangerously. He pulled his ruff a little higher up on his neck so it secured it. "The usual argument, you know. He wanted to attend the feast — well, it's quite out of the question, you know what he's like, utterly uncivilized, can't see a plate of food without throwing it. We held a ghost's council — the Fat Friar was all for giving him the chance — but most wisely, in my opinion, the Bloody Baron put his foot down."

The Bloody Baron was the Slytherin ghost, a gaunt and silent spectre covered in silver bloodstains. He was the only person at Hogwarts who could really control Peeves.

"Yeah, we thought Peeves seemed hacked off about something," said Ron darkly. "So what did he do in the kitchens?"

"Oh the usual," said Nearly Headless Nick, shrugging. "Wreaked havoc and mayhem. Pots and pans everywhere. Place swimming in soup. Terrified the house-elves out of their wits —"

_Clang. _Amara jumped and nearly choked on the bit of cauliflower she had been eating. Hermione had evidently knocked over her goblet of pumpkin juice, for a large orange stain was spreading its way across the table.

"There are house-elves _here_?" she said, staring, horror-struck, at Nearly Headless Nick. "Here at _Hogwarts_?"

"Certainly," said Nearly Headless Nick, looking surprised at her reaction. "The largest number in any dwelling in Britain, I believe. Over a hundred."

"I've never seen one!" said Hermione.

"Well, they hardly ever leave the kitchen by day, do they?" said Nearly Headless Nick. "They come out at night to do a bit of cleaning . . . see to the fires and so on. . . . I mean, you're not supposed to see them, are you? That's the mark of a good house-elf, isn't it, that you don't know it's there?"

Hermione stared at him. And Amara swallowed the piece of meat she was chewing.

"But they get _paid?_" she said. "They get _holidays_, don't they? And — and sick leave, and pensions, and everything?"

Nearly Headless Nick chortled so much that his ruff slipped and his head flopped off, dangling on the inch or so of ghostly skin and muscle that still attached it to his neck. It was rather disgusting, and Amara avoided looking at it.

"Sick leave and pensions?" he said, pushing his head back onto his shoulders and securing it once more with his ruff. "House-elves don't want sick leave and pensions!"

Hermione looked down at her hardly touched plate of food, then put her knife and fork down upon it and pushed it away from her.

"Oh c'mon, 'Er-my-knee," said Ron, accidentally spraying Harry and Amara with bits of Yorkshire pudding. "Oops — sorry, 'Arry, 'Mara —" He swallowed. "You won't get them sick leave by starving yourself !"

"Slave labour," said Hermione, breathing hard through her nose. "That's what made this dinner. _Slave labour."_

For the rest of the meal, Hermione did not eat another bite. She seemed as though she wanted Amara to do the same, but Amara herself ate everything on her plate, so that it was obvious she was not going to starve herself.

The thunder and lightening got a little louder as the dinner turned into puddings. The rain was still rattling on the windows.

And she refused to eat another bite.

"Treacle tart, Hermione!" said Ron, deliberately wafting its smell toward her. "Spotted dick, look! Chocolate gateau!"

But Hermione gave him a look so reminiscent of Professor McGonagall that he gave up.

It was surprising how much Amara, Harry and Ron could still eat after the main course, but they all are second portions of the puddings as well. Finally, when they were all so stuffed Amara was worried she wasn't going to be able to move, the plates got wiped clean and Professor Dumbledore got up to speak.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered," ("Hmph!" said Hermione) "I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices.

"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty- seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

The corners of Dumbledore's mouth twitched and Amara wondered if anyone actually went to check the list. He continued, "As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

_"__What_?" Harry gasped. Amara was in shock as well. No Quidditch? What? Looking down the table, Amara saw Fred, George, Angelina and the others looking extremely put out. Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —"

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. Amara jumped violently in her seat.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark grey hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull _clunk_ echoed through the Hall on his every other step. The whole Hall was silent with fear, curiosity and apprehension. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Hermione and Amara gasped.

The man's face was so scarred it looked like it had been carved brutally out of wood. Every inch of the face was covered in the scars, all different sizes and a chunk from his nose was missing.

But it was the man's eyes that had made Amara gasp. One was normal, small black and beady, like a beetle. But it was the other that was so creepy. It was fake, large round and a vivid blue, and the eye moved everywhere, in all directions. Up, down, side to side and even behind his head so that the blue was gone and there was only white left.

The stranger had now reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words nobody in the room could hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark grey hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the weird silence. "Professor Moody."

Nobody clapped. Everyone was staring at Moody with a strange fascination, so Dumbledore and Hagrid's claps, who were the only ones who did clap in the whole of the hall, echoed around the room. They stopped very quickly.

"Moody?" Amara heard Harry mutter to Ron. "_Mad-Eye Moody_? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron in a low, awed voice.

"What happened to him?" Hermione whispered. "What happened to his _face?_"

"Dunno," Ron whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it.

"He's creepy," Amara whispered.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred very loudly.

The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. Amara was very glad Fred had spoken, for the tension in the hall was suffocating.

"I am _not_ joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar . . ."

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Er — but maybe this is not the time . . . no . . ." said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament . . . well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

"_Death toll?"_ Hermione whispered, looking alarmed. But her anxiety did not seem to be shared by the majority of students in the Hall; many of them were whispering excitedly to one another, and Amara was grinning as well.

"Beauxbatons did he say?" Amara said. "Jesse or the others could be coming here!"

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred hissed down the table to them, his face lit with enthusiasm at the prospect of such glory and riches. He was not the only person who seemed to be visualizing himself as the Hogwarts champion. Amara was excited that Beauxbatons were coming to Hogwarts. She'd have to write to Jesse to ask if he was going. But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Hall quieted once more.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age — that is to say, seventeen years or older — will be allowed to put for- ward their names for consideration. This" — Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious — "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no under- age student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall.

"They can't do that!" said George, who had not joined the crowd moving toward the door, but was standing up and glaring at Dumbledore. "We're seventeen in April, why can't we have a shot?"

"They're not stopping me entering," said Fred stubbornly, also scowling at the top table. "The champions'll get to do all sorts of stuff you'd never be allowed to do normally. And a thousand Galleons prize money!"

"Yeah," said Ron, a faraway look on his face. "Yeah, a thousand Galleons . . ."

"Imagine," said Amara dreamily.

"Come on," said Hermione, "we'll be the only ones left here if you don't move."

Amara, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George set off for the entrance hall, Fred and George debating the ways in which Dumbledore might stop those who were under seventeen from entering the tournament.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" said Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred, "but it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George. . . ."

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Ron.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice as they walked through a door concealed behind a tapestry and started up another, narrower staircase.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk? Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" Ron asked Amara and Harry. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older. . . . Dunno if we've learned enough. . . ."

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice from behind Fred and George.

"I expect my gran'd want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to — oops. . . ."

Neville's foot had sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. Harry and Ron seized him under the armpits and pulled him out, while a suit of armour at the top of the stairs creaked and clanked, laughing wheezily.

"Shut it, you," said Ron, banging down its visor as they passed. They made their way up to the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, which was concealed behind a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said as they approached.

"Balderdash," said George, "a prefect downstairs told me."

The portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall through which they all climbed. A crackling fire warmed the circular common room, which was full of squashy armchairs and tables.

Hermione cast the merrily dancing flames a dark look and muttered _"Slave labour_," under her breath before bidding them good night and disappearing through the doorway to the girls' dormitory. Amara sighed and walked up to, bidding Harry, Ron, Neville, Fred and George goodnight.

She went up to her dormitory and found the other girls minus Sophie were already there. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were packing their things away, adding photographs and their make-up supplies onto their dressers.

"Hello Amara," said Lavender. "Had a nice holiday?"

"It was lovely thanks, how was yours?" Amara replied. She didn't mind Lavender and Parvati, who were both nice but slightly ditzy when it came to certain things.

"We went to Venice," said Lavender. "And Parvati came too."

"Really?" said Amara. "Sounds great."

"Did you go anywhere?" Parvati asked.

"Not abroad," said Amara as Hermione came out the bathroom. "Just to the Quidditch World Cup, and I stayed at Ron's house."

"You went to the Quidditch World Cup?" said Parvati. "I heard it was amazing."

"I wouldn't go myself," said Lavender. "I'm not completely into the sort of thing. Hello Sophie."

Sophie Roper had just entered the dormitory.

"Hello," she said and went to her bed.

"So," said Parvati. "How exciting is the Triwizard Tournament?" They all started getting ready for bed.

"Very," said Amara. "I'm hoping my cousin is coming, he goes to Beauxbatons, you know."

"Oooh," said Lavender. "Is that the dreamy boy from your photograph?"

"Yes," said Amara, giggling at the irritated look on Hermione's face.

"Is he old enough to compete?" asked Parvati.

"Yes," said Amara. "Yeah, he is. I wonder if he'll enter."

Amara did not see the worried look on Hermione's face as the five girls continued to get ready. They all closed their curtains and said their goodnights.

She wondered what would happen if she followed Fred and George's theory of being able to trick the judges. She'd get one thousand galleons prize money! With that she could buy anything she wanted … and probably get Ron some new dress robes … smiling, Amara rolled over and went to sleep.


	13. Mad-Eye Moody

**_A/N Thank you for all the reviews! They make me so happy! ^.^ R&R xxx_**

**_Chapter Thirteen_**

**_Mad-Eye Moody_**

Luckily the storm that had been raging all night had finally been swept away from them. There were still horrible grey clouds circling overhead, but Amara paid them no heed as they received their new timetables for the year by Professor McGonagall.

"Today's not bad . . . outside all morning," said Ron, who was running his finger down the Monday column of his timetable. "Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures . . . damn it, we're still with the Slytherins..."

"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned as Amara helped herself to some more bacon, making herself another bacon sandwich.

"You should have given it up like me and Amara, shouldn't you?" said Hermione briskly, buttering herself some toast. "Then you'd be doing something sensible like Arithmancy."

"Huh," said Amara, comparing timetables with Hermione's. "We've got different Ancient Runes classes."

"What?" Hermione said.

"I've got Ancient Runes this afternoon."

"Oh," said Hermione looking rather disappointed. She looked down at her toast and took a bite. "How annoying. You'll have to tell me all about it."

"We're in the same class lager in the week," Amara noted. "It's just because you're taking more classes." She took a massive bite out of her sandwich.

"You're eating again, I notice," said Ron after they'd finished, watching Hermione adding liberal amounts of jam to another bit of toast.

"I've decided there are better ways of making a stand about elf rights," said Hermione haughtily.

"Yeah . . . and you were hungry," said Ron, grinning. Amara caught the end of Fred, George and Lee's conversation. They were still talking about the different ways they could trick their way into the Triwizard Tournament.

There was the familiar rustling noise above them as the owls came soaring in with the morning mail. Amara looked up instinctively and was surprised when she saw Jesse's owl soaring towards her. Caesar landed in front of her neatly, plopping the letter into her empty plate and puffed out his chest, asking for a stroke. Amara patted his head, and he ate her bacon rinds before flying off to the Owlery or back to France again.

Amara opened her letter eagerly and found it was Tally who was writing to her.

_Dear Amara,_

_Jesse wanted me to write but was too excited so I had to do it for him instead. We've just heard from our friend that the Triwizard Tournament is being held at Hogwarts and Jesse's in the group that are going! He's so excited, especially since his friends are going too, and now he can't wait to get back to school (we go back tomorrow) So he's going to be at Hogwarts for like the whole year! Noah and I are so jealous - Noah just misses the age restriction, which he is annoyed about._

_That's all I suppose, but I'm expecting lots of letters about everything, alright?_

_Speak to you soon,_

_Love from_

_Tally_

"Who was that from?" Ron asked.

"Tally," said Amara as she folded the letter away. "She said that Jesse's in the group that's coming." She said to Hermione.

Hermione perked up at this thought. Harry seemed very preoccupied as they all got up to go to Herbology. Ron and Amara kept a conversation, but Harry seemed too into his own world to be into it.

They entered Herbology and found Professor Sprout holding the ugliest plants Amara has ever seen. Indeed, they looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus —"

"The _what_?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Amara scrunched her nose up at the thought. Squeezing the bubotubers was the worst thing Amara had done in Herbology. But when they did pop, after swelling, it was weirdly satisfying seeing the thick yellow-green liquid burst out. It stunk of petrol that went up their noses as they caught it into bottles the Professor Sprout gave them. Amara, Ron and Harry had a competition of who-could-squeeze-the-most. Ron came first, and Professor Sprout was very impressed by them.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."

A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signalling the end of the lesson, and the class separated into two. The Hufflepuffs went up to the castle to Transfiguration, whilst the Gryffindors went the other way to Hagrid's cabin by the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was already standing outside his hut, waiting for them, with Fang. Fang was still enormous and was straining on the huge collar he was wearing (which was the right size on him) as Hagrid was holding on tight. The reason Fang was straining so much was because there were several wooden crates on the ground, open and ready to be looked into. Amara was curious herself at first, but as they got nearer there was an odd rattling noise and some weird, miniature explosions coming from within them. Amara gave a glance to the others, wondering what on earth Hagrid had.

"Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this — Blast- Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" said Ron.

Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender, jumping backward.

Looking into the crates 'eurgh' was about the right word. It was rather repulsive looking at the Blast-Ended Skrewts. They were deformed, shell-less lobsters, slimy and pale, with odd legs sticking out from underneath them. They had no visible head, which made them even more weird-looking, because you didn't know where they were looking. And it looked like they didn't even _have _heads, because they were all crawling on each other, bumping blindly into their neighbours. In each crate were about a hundred of the weird creatures, about six-inches long. Amara did not want to know what size they'd be when they were fully grown.

Instead of heads, the 'back-end' of the Skrewt (Amara thought it was the back of it) a few sparks would fly out and make them propel forwards.

"On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we _want_ to raise them?" said a cold voice.

It was Draco Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were behind him, chuckling dutifully. The rest of the Slytherins had also arrived, looking grumpy, surly and hard.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question, which did not help.

"I mean, what do they _do?_" asked Malfoy. "What is the _point_ of them?"

Amara couldn't help but agree, but she did not say it out loud.

Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Mal- foy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things — I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer — I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake — just try 'em out with a bit of each."

"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.

If Amara was not friends with Hagrid (and if she'd been in Slytherin) she'd never have picked up horrible, full handfuls of frog liver and try to feed weird, horrible creatures like Blast-Ended Skrewts. But, because she _was, _she did, and had to, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione. It was revolting, and it did not make Amara have a good appetite for lunch. Pus and frogs liver in the same day was not a very nice combination.

Even though they picked up the frog liver they couldn't exactly give it to the Screwts, because they didn't have any mouths. They didn't seem keen on any of the food, nor did they show any signs of needing food.

_"__Ouch!"_ yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes of feeding them the frog liver, grass snake and ant eggs. "It got me!

Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious. Amara gratefully stopped picking up the liver and watched.

"Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.

"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.

"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"

"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males. . . . The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies. . . . I think they might be ter suck blood."

"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Malfoy sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"

"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"

Amara looked back at the Blast-Ended Screwts doubtfully. She knew Hermione was just making it up to stick up for Hagrid. The Blast-Ended Screwts _definitely _were pointless, and the entire lesson was really rather pointless, even after Dean's burn, because they had to carry on. Before ending the lesson, Amara washed the hand she used very thoroughly.

"Well, at least the skrewts are small," said Ron as they made their way back up to the castle for lunch, after they'd cleaned their liver-smelling hands.

"They are now," said Hermione in an exasperated voice, "but once Hagrid's found out what they eat, I expect they'll be six feet long."

"Well, that won't matter if they turn out to cure seasickness or something, will it?" said Ron, grinning slyly at her.

"You know perfectly well I only said that to shut Malfoy up," said Hermione. "As a matter of fact I think he's right. The best thing to do would be to stamp on the lot of them before they start attacking us all."

"I agree," said Amara. "Because I'm not spending another lesson trying to find its mouth with frog livers. It's completely ruined my lunch."

They sat down at the Gryffindor table and Harry, Ron and Hermione helped themselves to lamb chops and potatoes. Amara gave herself a smaller portion than normal. When they were all sorted Hermione began to eat so fast that Amara, Harry and Ron all stopped eating their lunch and stared at her.

"Er — is this the new stand on elf rights?" said Ron. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"

"No," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."

_"__What?"_ said Ron in disbelief. "Hermione — it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"

Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days.

"Hermione –" Amara began, but Hermione had already finished. She leapt to her feet and said:

"See you at dinner!"

And she practically sprinted out of the hall.

The rest of the lunch went on without anything exciting. Harry and Ron complained about having Divination for a double lesson after lunch.

"You really should have stopped it," said Amara. "I feel so much better without it. And I get more Ancient Runes lessons."

"What is Ancient Runes like?" said Harry.

"Oh, it's fantastic," said Amara earnestly. "Really interesting. Nearly my favourite subject, I mean, after Transfiguration and Charms."

"Sounds dull to me," said Ron, continuing his meal.

"Hey, Amara," said a voice behind Harry, who was sitting opposite her. Looking up she saw Ethan standing with Eddie.

"Hey Ethan – Eddie," said Amara. "What's up?"

"Not much," said Ethan. "I was wondering how the Quidditch World Cup was."

Harry and Ron immediately moved up so they could sit down. The rest of the lunch was Harry, Ron and Amara explaining in immense detail what happened at the Quidditch match. Ethan and Eddie were enraptured by the explanation and could barely eat with their excitement.

"And then, Lynch – the Irish Seeker – he went into this _amazing _dive –"

"It was vertical in the air! And Krum, he went straight after him, because this time Lynch had actually seen the Snitch …"

"Krum was a mess though, I wondered how he could see – his nose was so bloody, but somehow he caught up with Lynch –"

"And then Lynch crashed again and everyone wondered what had happened –"

"But then everyone saw that Krum had got the Snitch!"

"So, Bulgaria won?" Ethan said, frowning.

"This is the best part," said Ron. "_Ireland won." _

"How?"

"Because of their points! They had one hundred and seventy, right? And Bulgaria had ten. The Snitch is only one hundred and fifty, so the end result was one hundred and seventy to one hundred and sixty."

"Wow," said Eddie. "I wish I got tickets."

"But why did Krum get the snitch if they were so far behind?" said Ethan.

"They'd never catch up," said Harry. "Ireland are too good."

When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Harry and Ron set off for North Tower for their dreaded double divination, Eddie and Ethan went up to Transfiguration and Amara went her familiar way to her Ancient Runes class.

She waited outside and stood with some of the Ravenclaws, feeling slightly lost without Hermione. From Ravenclaw there was Padma Patil, Parvati's twin sister, Lisa Turpin, a quiet girl with shoulder-length brown hair and glasses. Also, there was Roger Malone, Amara's one-time date, and pushing it '_boyfriend', _but Amara didn't call it that, because it was a three-day sort of thing. With him was Oliver Rivers, whom Amara quite liked from her brief encounter at the Three Broomsticks. Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein were there as well, and Amara talked to them more than anyone. The Hufflepuffs mingled in with them as well (consisting of Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Kevin Enthwhistle and Wayne Hopkins) chatting about their lessons that day and their summer stories. The four Slytherins looked as though they half-wanted to join, but didn't. Sophie and Amara were the only Gryffindors there, so they both talked to the houses, for Sophie was quiet and not outspoken in the slightest.

"How was your summer?" Amara asked Terry Boot, a brown haired boy who was rather cheerful, yet studious.

"Good thanks," said Terry. "Went to Spain with my parents, then went to see the Quidditch World Cup."

"Really?" said Amara. "So did I!"

"Amazing, wasn't it?" said Terry. Before he could say anything else, Professor Babbling came down the corridor.

"Go in, go in!" she said. "And sit where you like, I know who most of you are now."

They went inside the square classroom hastily. The Slytherins grouped together at the back. Hannah and Susan sat together along with Padma and Lisa and Sophie sat with Roger. Amara sat down, and Terry slid into a seat beside her.

"Hope you don't mind," he grinned.

"Not at all," said Amara.

"Good afternoon class!" said Professor Babbling. "I hope you all had wonderful summers, but now it's time to see if you remember all the Rune translations you learnt last year. Most of this lesson will be a recap, but after that I hope you will all remember them, as they'll most definitely come up in your O. next year! So, Miss Turpin, please may you hand these out to each person? No cheating!"

Remembering the Runes was hard work. Some of them looked the same as others, with only one line difference. Amara was sure she mistook _Othala_ and _Ingwaz_ up because of this.

"Well done class," said Professor Babbling an hour later. "Now, with your table partners I want you to decide what level you are on and look at these Runes here. One is very easy, the next is medium and the last is hard, off you go."

"What do you think?" said Terry immediately.

"I don't know," said Amara.

"Well you wrote an answer for everything in that test, I think you need hard," said Terry.

"I didn't get them all right though," said Amara. "What about medium?"

They settled for the medium and got all their equipment out.

"It says here that _Mannaz _is 'Mankind'," said Terry after five minute. "But that has got nothing to do with our translation.

"Maybe it isn't _Mannaz," _said Amara. "Look it has the crosses on it, this one is _ehwaz, _which is 'partnership'."

Terry groaned. "I think we've done the whole thing wrong."

By the end of the lesson none of the partners had got very far.

"I wasn't expecting much," said Professor Babbling. "But for homework: write me an essay for next week for _Why Different Rune Translations are Good. _Not too long, just spend about an hour on it – a sufficient amount is needed or I'll be dishing out detentions!"

The bell rang for dinner and there was the heavy thud of things dropping into bags.

"I had fun today," said Terry. "I've never spoken to you before."

"I had fun too," said Amara. "It's nice to have someone different to talk to."

After the class has finished, Amara trailed out with Terry and Anthony Goldstein.

"We're going to the library to do the homework now," said Terry. "Would you like to come?"

"It's alright," said Amara, "I'm kind of hungry, maybe next time."

"Okay," said Terry and he and Anthony went the other way, in the direction of the library.

Amara caught the crowds and made her way to the Great Hall, hoping Harry, Ron and Hermione were in there.

She'd just reached the very crowded entrance hall when a cold voice called out.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!"

Amara hurried up and saw Harry, Ron and Hermione turn around. It was Malfoy, of course, standing with Crabbe and Goyle and looking extremely pleased. Amara hurried up and stood next to Hermione.

"What?" said Ron shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. Considering that everyone was queuing for dinner, a lot of people could. "Listen to this!

_FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."_

Malfoy looked up.

"Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It's almost as though he's a complete nonentity, isn't it?" he crowed.

Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Malfoy straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:

_Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and at- tempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer _Daily Prophet _questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene._

"And there's a picture, Weasley!" said Malfoy, flipping the paper over and holding it up. "A picture of your parents outside their house — if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn't she?"

Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him. Amara glared at them all as she ground her teeth together.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron. . . ."

"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you,

Potter? And you, Matthews," sneered Malfoy. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"

"You know _your_ mother, Malfoy?" said Harry — both he, Amara and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy, which Amara was trying not to do herself — "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"

Malfoy's pale face went slightly pink and Amara smirked.

"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."

"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away.

BANG!

Several people screamed and Amara jumped as a shot of white light went very close to Harry's face. She whipped around, clutching her wand inside her robes.

BANG, a second noise echoed through the entrance hall and Amara closed her eyes at the light, followed by an enormous roar of:

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

Professor Mad-Eye Moody was stomping down the staircase, his wand stretched out in front of him and a mangled angry look was being forced upon his face. On the floor in front of him, where Malfoy had just been standing, was a pure white ferret, shivering and looking petrified.

There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry, who looked apprehensive. Moody's fake, electric blue eye was currently only a circle of white, and it seemed he was looking out the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.

"No," said Harry, "missed."

"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted and Amara jumped slightly.

"Leave — what?" Harry said, looking bewildered.

"Not you — him!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his

shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and he really could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again — it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. . . ."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. Amara couldn't help but snort with laughter slightly.

"Never — do — that — again —" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What — what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach — Moody, _is that a student_?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Moody.

"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. Amara tried not to grin.

"Moody, we _never _use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock —"

"We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered some- thing in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull _clunk _of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy. . . . You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son . . . you tell him that from me. . . . Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. . . . Come on, you. . . ."

And he seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.

Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

"Don't talk to me," Ron said quietly to Amara, Harry and Hermione as they sat down at the Gryffindor table a few minutes later, surrounded by excited talk on all sides about what had just happened.

"Why not?" said Hermione in surprise. Amara looked up to, in curiosity.

"Because I want to fix that in my memory forever," said Ron, his eyes closed and an uplifted expression on his face. "Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret . . ."

Amara, Harry and Hermione both laughed, and Hermione began dolling beef casserole onto each of their plates.

"He could have really hurt Malfoy, though," she said. "It was good, really, that Professor McGonagall stopped it —"

"Hermione!" said Ron furiously, his eyes snapping open again, "you're ruining the best moment of my life!"

Hermione made an impatient noise and began to eat at top speed again.

"Don't tell me you're going back to the library this evening?" said Harry, watching her.

"Got to," said Hermione thickly. "Loads to do."

_"How?"_ Amara said. "It's the first day."

"And you told us Professor Vector —"

"It's not schoolwork," she said. Within five minutes, she had cleared her plate and departed.

She was barely out the door before Hermione's seat next to Amara was filled by Fred Weasley. She tried not to flush at the proximity of them. Clearing her throat, she began to eat her casserole.

"Moody!" Fred said. "How cool is he?"

"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down opposite Fred and next to Harry.

"Supercool," said the twins' best friend, Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George. "We had him this afternoon," he told Amara, Harry and Ron.

"What was it like?" said Harry eagerly.

Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.

"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.

"He _knows_, man," said Lee.

"Knows what?" said Ron, leaning forward.

"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said George

impressively.

"Doing what?" said Amara in interest.

"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.

"He's seen it all," said George.

" 'Mazing," said Lee.

Ron dived into his bag for his timetable, very nearly upturning his casserole.

"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a very disappointed voice.


	14. The Unforgivable Curses

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

**_The Unforgivable Curses_**

Nothing exciting happened after the ferret incident with Professor Moody and Malfoy. Malfoy had not tried to make fun of the quartet since, and had really been trying to avoid them.

In the first Potions lesson of the year, one of Amara's least favourite classes, solely down to the teacher, Neville managed to melt his sixth cauldron. Amara didn't know how he did it, but it was another letter that Neville had to send to his grandmother so he could get a new one. Professor Snape, who seemed to have become even more disgustingly evil over the summer gave Neville detention.

Potions, in Amara's opinion, was rather interesting, but it was a shame that Snape was so horrible to them all, then she would have enjoyed it more. It was more enjoyable than Astronomy, which Amara didn't particularly enjoy, because it was night and it meant craning her neck just to see some stars. She hated Divination as well, but didn't have to do that anymore, so her one other least liked class was Potions.

After his detention, Neville seemed at a state that he was about to collapse, because, as he told them, that he had had to disembowel a barrel of horned slugs.

"You know why Snape's in such a foul mood, don't you?" Amara heard Ron say to Harry as Amara and Hermione taught Neville how to remove frog guys from under his fingernails.

"Yeah," was Harry's reply. "Moody."

It was common knowledge that Snape really wanted the Dark Arts job, and he had now failed to get it for the fourth year running. Snape had disliked all of their previous Dark Arts teachers, and shown it — but he seemed strangely wary of displaying overt animosity to Mad-Eye Moody. Amara didn't really like him herself, because he was rather scary, but Snape seemed to avoid him a lot.

"I reckon Snape's a bit scared of him, you know," Harry said thoughtfully.

"Imagine if Moody turned Snape into a horned toad," said Ron, his eyes misting over, as Amara finished helping Neville. "and bounced him all around his dungeon. . . ."

Amara and Harry laughed, imagining it too.

She opened her books for Ancient Runes and tried to make a start on her essay, but Harry and Ron, who had no work to do, or simply couldn't be bothered to do if until the weekend, were being rather noisy. She soon gave up and instead played Exploding Snap with them, winning three times in a row.

-OOOOO-

The Gryffindor fourth years were looking forward to Moody's first lesson so much that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. Amara felt a little apprehensive about the lesson, but Harry and Ron were eager to get inside. The only person missing outside the classroom was Hermione, who turned up just intime for the lesson.

"Been in the —"

"Library." Harry finished her sentence for her. "C'mon, quick,or we won't get decent seats."

Everyone hurried into the classroom, Harry and Ron took a desk in the front and Amara and Hermione (the former rather hesitantly) took the desk next to them. They took out their new copies of _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self- Protection_, and waited, unusually quiet and silent. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see a clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes and Amara realised he had a wooden foot.

"You can put those away," he growled, stumping over to his desk and sitting down, "those books. You won't need them."

They returned the books to their bags, Ron looking excited, Amara unsure. What if he turned them all into ferrets?

Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled grey hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swivelled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered. It was really rather creepy, but Amara could see why Fred, George and Lee enjoyed the lesson so much.

"Right then," he said, when Ron had declared himself present, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures — you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

There was a general murmur of assent.

"But you're behind — very behind — on dealing with curses," said Moody. "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark —"

"What, aren't you staying?" Ron blurted out, unable to help himself.

Moody's magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled. It wasn't a very nice smile at all, in fact, it made his face look even more scarred and twisted, but it was a smile all the same. Ron looked deeply relieved.

"You'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody said. "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. . . . Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favour to Dumbledore. . . . One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He gave a harsh laugh, and then clapped his gnarled hands together.

"So — straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I'm talking."

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently Moody's magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.

"So . . . do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?"

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron's and Hermione's. Amara and Harry kept their hands down, both of them not knowing any. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender, who was still flushing a little.

"Er," said Ron tentatively, "my dad told me about one. . . . Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Ah, yes," said Moody appreciatively. "Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Amara put on her hard face. She didn't like spiders at the best of times, especially when they were large ones. Aragog, Hagrid's Acromatula friend from the Forbidden Forest, was the largest Amara was ever going to get near. Ron recoiled back in his seat as well.

Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the very large spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, "_Imperio!"_

The spider leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance. It was horrible. Moody was making the spider do things without it being able to stop it. Amara didn't know why everyone was laughing, but she couldn't look away from the cartwheeling spider. It was pitiful to watch, and Amara saw that Hermione wasn't laughing either, nor was Professor Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he growled and Amara gulped. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly.

"Total control," said Moody quietly as the spider balled itself up and began to roll over and over. "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats . . ."

Ron gave an involuntary shudder.

"Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being con- trolled by the Imperius Curse," said Moody, and he was talking about the days in which Voldemort had been all-powerful. "Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will.

"The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he barked, and everyone jumped, Amara clutching her desk in shock.

Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.

"Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?"

Hermione's hand flew into the air again and so, which was a slight surprise, did Neville's. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology, which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring as well, but he looked scared when Moody picked on him to answer. "Yes?" said Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.

"There's one — the Cruciatus Curse," said Neville in a small but distinct voice.

Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.

"Your name's Longbottom?" he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.

Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move. Amara would probably have felt the same if she was the spider.

"The Cruciatus Curse," said Moody. "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea," he said, pointing his wand at the spider. _"Engorgio!"_

The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Amara gulped and saw Ron has pushed himself away from Moody's desk.

Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, "_Crucio!"_

At once, the spider's legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. If it was a human it would have been screaming. Amara's eyes were wide as she looked at the spider being tortured. It was utterly horrible and Amara grew paler as Moody did not remove his wand, so the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently —

"Stop it!" Hermione said shrilly. Amara glanced at her and saw she was looking a a horrified, white looking Neville, who was looking at the spider with terror.

Moody raised his wand. The spider's legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch occasionally. Amara let out a breath that she hasn't realised she'd been holding.

_"__Reducio_," Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.

"Pain," said Moody softly. "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. . . . That one was very popular once too.

"Right . . . anyone know any others?"

Amara didn't want to know what was going to happen with the last large spider in the glass jar. Hermione's hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air.

"Yes?" said Moody, looking at her.

"_Avada Kedavra_," Hermione whispered.

Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron. Amara did not know what it was.

"Ah," said Moody, another slight smile twisting his lopsided

mouth. "Yes, the last and worst. _Avada Kedavra_ . . . the Killing Curse."

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody's fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface.

Moody raised his wand, and Amara leant away slightly.

_"__Avada Kedavra_!" Moody roared. There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air — instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Ron had thrown himself backward and almost toppled off his seat as the spider skidded toward him. Amara's throat had constricted as the spider lay dead a few meters away.

Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.

"Not nice," he said calmly. "Not pleasant. And there's no counter curse. There's no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Harry went red as Moody and everyone else looked at him. That was how his parents had died? Quick and horrifyingly easy, that left nothing on the body to show how they'd been killed? Amara swallowed and looked back at Moody, who was speaking again. "_Avada Kedavra's_ a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it — you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it.

"Now, if there's no counter curse, why am I showing you? _Because you've got to know._ You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and the whole class jumped again.

"Now . . . those three curses — _Avada Kedavr_a, Imperius, and Cruciatus — are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice _constant, never-ceasing vigilance_. Get out your quills . . . copy this down. . . ."

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Un- forgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang — but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices — "Did you see it twitch?" "— and when he killed it — just like that!"

They were talking about the lesson as though it had been a paid exhibition or show. Amara hadn't found it very amusing at all, neither had Harry or Hermione.

"Hurry up," she said tensely to Amara, Harry and Ron.

"Not the ruddy library again?" said Ron.

"No," said Hermione curtly, pointing up a side passage. "Neville."

Neville was standing alone, halfway up the passage, staring at the stone wall opposite him with the same horrified, wide-eyed look he had worn when Moody had demonstrated the Cruciatus Curse.

"Neville?" Hermione said gently.

Neville looked around.

"Oh hello," he said, his voice much higher than usual. "Interesting lesson, wasn't it? I wonder what's for dinner, I'm — I'm starv- ing, aren't you?"

"Are you alright Neville?" Amara asked.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," Neville gabbled in the same unnaturally high voice. "Very interesting dinner — I mean lesson — what's for eating?"

Ron gave Harry and Amara a startled look. Amara looked at Neville with a sad look.

"Neville, what — ?"

But an odd clunking noise sounded behind them, and they

turned to see Professor Moody limping toward them. All five of them fell silent, watching him apprehensively, but when he spoke, it was in a much lower and gentler growl than they had yet heard.

"It's all right, sonny," he said to Neville. "Why don't you come up to my office? Come on . . . we can have a cup of tea. . . ."

Neville looked even more frightened at the prospect of tea with Moody. He neither moved nor spoke. Moody turned his magical eye upon Harry.

"You all right, are you, Potter?"

"Yes," said Harry, almost defiantly.

Moody's blue eye quivered slightly in its socket as it surveyed Harry. Then he said, "You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe, _but you've got to know_. No point pretending . . . well . . . come on, Longbottom, I've got some books that might interest you."

Neville looked pleadingly at Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but they didn't say anything, just looked rather miserably back. This meant Neville had no choice but to be led away down the corridor with Moody.

"What was that about?" said Ron, watching Neville and Moody turn the corner.

"I don't know," said Hermione, looking back at the now Moody-less Neville-less corridor.

"Some lesson, though, eh?" said Ron to Amara and Harry as they set off for the Great Hall. "Fred and George were right, weren't they? He really knows his stuff, Moody, doesn't he? When he did _Avada Kedavra_, the way that spider just _died_, just snuffed it right —"

But Ron fell suddenly silent at the glare Amara gave him and the look of weirdness on Harry's face. He only spoke again when they were in the Great Hall, eating cottage pie, and Hermione was again eating stupidly fast.

"We'd better so Trelawney's predictions tonight," he said. "It'll take hours."

"Hermione you're not doing yourself any good by eating like that," Amara said, not really listening to Ron, but instead looking at Hermione.

"I need to go to the library," was all she said before she jetted off.

Amara did not follow the two boys to the common room, for she needed a quick escapade to the toilet (not Moaning Myrtle's, but the one on the fourth floor).

When she came out she bumped into something rather hard.

"Ouch," she said.

"You need to watch where you're going, you know, Mattie."

It was Fred Weasley, looking down at her. Amara, instead of flushing, frowned at him.

"Well I don't normally expect people to stand right outside the bathroom door," she said as she brushes her robes unnecessarily.

"That is one of my many surprises," said Fred.

"Really?" Amara said doubtfully. "Where's George and Lee?"

"Detention with Professor Sprout."

"Why?" Amara asked in interest as they started walking to Gryffindor tower. "How come you didn't get one?"

"They accidentally smashed some pots up, I think they were tossing a plant around," Fred grinned. "I didn't take it."

"So what were you doing outside the girl's bathroom?"

"Not sure," said Fred. "Have you had a Defence lesson yet?"

"Yes," said Amara. "Today. He showed us the Dark curses. It was horrible."

They'd reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Balderdash," said Fred. "Sounds interesting though," he added. "Well, I'd better go do some Transfiguration. Or get Angelina to so it." He wondered off and Amara felt her stomach drop slightly. Ignoring this, she went upstairs and got her Ancient Runes essay, before going back down and sitting with a very bored looking Harry and Ron, who had their Divination books out.

After about an hour, Amara had finished and was reading one of Hermione's books with Crookshanks on her lap. Amara noticed that George has come back from his detention and was now scribbling on parchment with Fred in the corner of the common room. Not wanting to pry, she looked back at Harry and Ron.

"I haven't got a clue what this lot's supposed to mean," Harry said, staring down at a long list of calculations that looked immensely boring.

"You know," said Ron, whose hair was on end because of all the times he had run his fingers through it in frustration, "I think it's back to the old Divination standby."

"What — make it up?"

"Yeah," said Ron, sweeping the jumble of scrawled notes off the table and onto the floor, dipping his pen into some ink, and starting to write.

"Next Monday," he said as he scribbled, "I am likely to develop a cough, owing to the unlucky conjunction of Mars and Jupiter."

He looked up at Harry. "You know her — just put in loads of misery, she'll lap it up." Amara giggled and moved forwards.

"Right," said Harry, crumpling up his first attempt and lobbing it over the heads of a group of chattering first years into the fire. "Okay...on Monday, I will be in danger of—er—burns."

"Yeah, you will be," said Ron darkly, "we're seeing the skrewts again on Monday. Okay, Tuesday, _I'll_ . . . erm . . ."

"Lose a treasured possession," said Harry, who was flicking through _Unfogging the Future_ for ideas.

"Good one," said Ron, copying it down. "Because of . . . erm . . . Mercury. Why don't you get stabbed in the back by someone you thought was a friend?"

"Yeah . . . cool . . ." said Harry, scribbling it down, "because . . . Venus is in the twelfth house."

"And on Wednesday, I think I'll come off worst in a fight."

"Aaah, I was going to have a fight. Okay, I'll lose a bet."

"Yeah, you'll be betting I'll win my fight. . . ."

It was entertaining listening to the boys make up predictions for nearly an hour. They became more tragic and harder to come up with, so Amara helped too.

"What about you get eaten by a giant spider?"

"Excellent," Ron scribbled it down. "Because of the bad formation of Saturn this month."

People in the common room slowly went up to bed as it grew later and Hermione has yet to come back from the library.

"What about you catch on fire?"

"Because of Mars and Mercury ..."

Amara noticed that Fred and George were still in the corner of the room, still trying to write things on a piece of parchment. Amara thought it could be an order form for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but it looked more serious than that.

Shortly after, the twins rolled up their parchment, said good night, and went off to bed.

Fred and George had been gone ten minutes or so when the portrait hole opened and Hermione climbed into the common room carrying a sheaf of parchment in one hand and a box whose con- tents rattled as she walked in the other. Crookshanks arched his back on Amara's lap, purring.

"Hello," she said, "I've just finished!"

"So have I!" said Ron triumphantly, throwing down his quill. Hermione sat down, laid the things she was carrying in an empty armchair, and pulled Ron's predictions toward her.

"Not going to have a very good month, are you?" she said sardonically.

"Ah well, at least I'm forewarned," Ron yawned.

"You seem to be drowning twice," said Hermione.

"Oh am I?" said Ron, peering down at his predictions. "I'd better change one of them to getting trampled by a rampaging hippogriff." "Don't you think it's a bit obvious you've made these up?" said Hermione.

"How dare you!" said Ron, in mock outrage. "We've been working like house-elves here!"

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"It's just an expression," said Ron hastily.

Harry laid down his quill too, leaving his parchment to dry. Amara put her book down and stretched her arms.

"So?" She said. "What's all this you've been working in?"

"What's in the box?" Harry added, pointing at it.

"Funny you should ask," said Hermione, with a nasty look at Ron. She took off the lid and showed them the contents.

Inside were about fifty badges, all of different colours, but all bearing the same letters: S.P.E.W.

"'Spew'?" said Harry, picking up a badge and looking at it. "What's this about?"

"Not _spew_," said Hermione impatiently. "It's S-P-E-W. Stands for the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

"Never heard of it," said Ron.

"Well, of course you haven't," said Hermione briskly, "I've only just started it."

"Yeah?" said Ron in mild surprise. "How many members have you got?"

"Well — if you three join — four," said Hermione. Amara raised her eyebrows.

"You've been making a campaign for _house-elf rights_?" She said. Hermione nodded.

"And you think we want to walk around wearing badges saying 'spew,' do you?" said Ron.

"S-P-E-W!" said Hermione hotly. "I was going to put Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status — but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto."

She brandished the sheaf of parchment at them.

"I've been researching it thoroughly in the library. Elf enslavement goes back centuries. I can't believe no one's done anything about it before now."

"Hermione — open your ears," said Ron loudly. "They. Like. It. They **like** being enslaved!"

"Our short-term aims," said Hermione, speaking even more loudly than Ron, and acting as though she hadn't heard a word, which also meant that they had to listen what she was nattering on about. "are to secure house-elves fair wages and working conditions. Our long- term aims include changing the law about non-wand use, and trying to get an elf into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, because they're shockingly underrepresented."

"And how do we do all this?" Harry asked.

"We start by recruiting members," said Hermione happily. "I thought two Sickles to join — that buys a badge — and the proceeds can fund our leaflet campaign. You're treasurer, Ron — I've got you a collecting tin upstairs — Amara, you're the fundraising director, so you'll probably need ideas and Harry, you're secretary, so you might want to write down everything I'm saying now, as a record of our first meeting."

The pause after she'd finished was rather heavy. Amara was bemused by what Hermione had made and was trying bit to laugh at Ron's facial expression. The silence was broken, not by Ron, who in any case looked as though he was temporarily dumbstruck, but by a soft _tap, tap_ on the window. Amara looked across the now empty common room and saw, illuminated by the moonlight, a snowy owl perched on the windowsill.

"Hedwig!" Harry shouted, and he launched himself out of his chair and across the room to pull open the window. Amara was very glad for the break in silence.

Hedwig flew inside, soared across the room, and landed on the table on top of Harry's predictions.

"About time!" said Harry, hurrying after her.

"She's got an answer!" said Ron excitedly, pointing at the grubby piece of parchment tied to Hedwig's leg.

"Open it!" Amara said.

Harry hastily untied it and sat down to read, whereupon Hedwig fluttered onto his knee, hooting softly.

"What does it say?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

Amara saw that the letter was very short, and looked as though it had been scrawled in a great hurry. Harry read it aloud, but Amara looked over his shoulder as well:

_Harry —_

_I'm flying north immediately. This news about your scar is_

_the latest in a series of strange rumours that have reached me here. If it hurts again, go straight to Dumbledore — they're saying he's got Mad-Eye out of retirement, which means he's reading the signs, even if no one else is._

_I'll be in touch soon. My best to Amara, Ron and Hermione. Keep your eyes open, Harry._

_Sirius_

Harry looked up at Amara, Ron and Hermione, who stared back at him. "He's flying north?" Hermione whispered. "He's coming back?" "Dumbledore's reading what signs?" said Ron, looking perplexed. "Harry — what's up?"

For Harry had just hit himself in the forehead with his fist, jolting Hedwig out of his lap.

"I shouldn't've told him!" Harry said furiously.

"What are you on about?" said Ron in surprise.

"It's made him think he's got to come back!" said Harry, now slamming his fist on the table so that Hedwig landed on the back of Ron's chair, hooting indignantly. "Coming back, because he thinks I'm in trouble! And there's nothing wrong with me! And I haven't got anything for you," Harry snapped at Hedwig, who was clicking her beak expectantly, "you'll have to go up to the Owlery if you want food."

Hedwig gave him an extremely offended look and took off for the open window, cuffing him around the head with her outstretched wing as she went.

"It's a good thing you wrote to him!" Amara said. "Harry -"

"I'm going to bed," said Harry shortly. "See you in the morning."

He stalked off up the stairs and disappeared.

"It is a good thing that he wrote to him, right?" Amara said.

"Yes," said Hermione. "Sirius knows something is wrong."

"If he didn't think it was so serious, I don't think he'd come back," said Ron.

"Right," said Amara, agreeing with them. But what if Sirius got caught? She didn't want him to go back to Azkaban.

They all went to bed shortly after that, because they no longer felt like talking.

Lavender, Parvati and Sophie were all in bed by the time they entered the dormitory. Hermione and Amara went silently to bed, but Amara got out a piece of parchment to write a letter to Tally that she'd never send.

_Dear Tally_

_You asked me to tell you everything that's going on. Even though the Triwizard Tournament is exciting, Harry's scar hurt in the summer and he wrote to Sirius about it. You know Sirius. He's Sirius Black, the mass-murderer that broke out of Azkaban last year. Long story, I hope I'll be able to tell you, Jesse and Noah the story soon. Anyway now he's coming back and Harry's annoyed. What with what happened at the Quidditch World Cup it's not exactly shaping out to be a normal year,_

_See you soon,_

_Love_

_Amara_


	15. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang

**_A/N 6 reviews away from 100 reviews - that is so amazing! Thank you so much for all the reviews! :) Thanks to all the Guest reviewers as well. You lot make me want to update more often! Hope you enjoy, xxx (R&R)_**

**_Chapter Fifteen_**

**_Beauxbatons and Durmstrang_**

The next morning it was rather difficult to get up. It was Friday, which meant they had History of Magic and Double Potions. On the bright side, they also had Charms, which Amara enjoyed a lot.

Hermione got her up in the end, by dragging her forcefully out of the bed an into the shower, threatening to turn it on.

"Okay - okay! I'm up," she groaned. She stomped back into the dormitory to find that only Sophie was there. She stared at her.

"What?" Amara snapped at her. She seemed to squeak and hurry out the room.

Amara rolled her eyes. How Sophie got into Gryffindor she had no idea. She and Hermione went down into the common room to wait for Ron and Harry before going to breakfast. Not two minutes after they'd come down, Ron came down the boys' staircase.

"Where's Harry?" Amara asked.

"I don't know," said Ron. "He'd already left when I woke up."

"He'll probably be down in the Great Hall already," said Hermione.

As there was nothing else to do, they hurried down the the Great Hall for breakfast.

They were all helping themselves to lots of toast when Harry came inti the Great Hall too.

"Where have you been?" Amara said.

"Owlery," said Harry. "I wrote to Sirius."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I imagined my scar was hurting so he wouldn't come back," said Harry.

"That was a _lie_, Harry," said Hermione sharply. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it."

"So what?" said Harry. "He's not going back to Azkaban because of me."

"Drop it," said Ron sharply to Hermione as she opened her mouth to argue some more, and for once, Hermione heeded him, and fell silent.

Amara felt a little relived Harry had done it, because it meant that Sirius couldn't get caught or sent back to Azkaban again. Hermione obviously didn't express the same view, because she looked very sour for the rest of the day.

Over the next few weeks another worry came into mind. Their classes were becoming much more difficult and demanding than previous years. Defence Against the Dark Arts was the most demanding, because of Professor Moody's take on the classes.

To their surprise, Professor Moody had announced that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of them in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether they could resist its effects.

"But — but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Hermione uncertainly as Moody cleared away the desks with a sweep of his wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said — to use it against another human was —"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," said Moody, his magical eye swivelling onto Hermione and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way — when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely — fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."

He pointed one gnarled finger toward the door. Hermione went very pink and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Amara felt very uncomfortable being in the lesson. She didn't want to be like the spider from the first class of the year. Hermione didn't leave so Amara stood firm and stayed in the line.

Moody began to beckon students forward in turn and put the Imperius Curse upon them. Amara's nerves built up as she watched her classmates do the weirdest of things. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Lavender Brown imitated a squirrel. Neville performed a series of quite astonishing gymnastics he would certainly not have been capable of in his normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them recovered only when Moody had removed it.

"Potter," Moody growled, "you next."

Harry moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Moody had cleared of desks. Moody raised his wand, pointed it at Harry, and said, "_Imperio!_"

Harry immediately became very relaxed and looked like he was in bliss. Moody concentrated and Harry squatted down, looking like he was going to jump like a frog. The next minute was rather confusing, as he looked as though he was going to jump, but then decided against it. Then, he did jump but tried to stop afterwards, meaning he crashed into the desk.

"Now, _that's_ more like it!" growled Moody. "Look at that, you lot . . . Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention — watch his eyes, that's where you see it — very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"

After that, Moody put the curse on Harry four times in a row before he could throw it off completely.

Ron had a go next, and he skipped around twirled around the classroom expertly.

"Matthews," came Moody's voice and Amara walked forwards. "_Imperio!"_

It was a wonderful feeling. Amara felt like she was floating on air.

_Get on the desk._

It was Moody's voice from far away. Amara got onto the desk.

_Jump from one to another._

Amara did what she was told the entire time and as soon as the curse was lifted, she was horrified at how easily she had been controlled.

"The way he talks," Harry muttered as he hobbled out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class (his knees were hurting him), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."

"Yeah, I know," said Ron, who was skipping on every alternate step, still not having recovered from his go. "Talk about paranoid . . ." Ron glanced nervously over his shoulder to check that Moody was definitely out of earshot and went on. "No wonder they were glad to get shot of him at the Ministry. Did you hear him telling Seamus what he did to that witch who shouted 'Boo' behind him on April Fools' Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"

All the fourth years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work they were required to do this term. Professor McGonagall explained why, when the class gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had assigned.

"You are now entering a most important phase of your magical education!" she told them, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer —"

"We don't take O.W.L.s till fifth year!" said Dean Thomas indignantly.

"Maybe not, Thomas, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! Miss Granger and Miss Matthews remain the only people in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Thomas, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"

Hermione, who had turned rather pink again, seemed to be trying not to look too pleased with herself. Amara smirked and rolled her eyes at her.

They were getting homework in practically every lesson for Ancient Runes, much to the annoyance if Amara and Terry, who had stayed sitting next to her. The homework was time consuming as well - either writing an essay or translating entire passages into English.

Meanwhile Professor Binns, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had them writing weekly essays on the goblin rebellions of the eighteenth century. Professor Snape was forcing them to research antidotes. They took this one seriously, as he had hinted that he might be poisoning one of them before Christmas to see if their antidote worked. Professor Flitwick had asked them to read three extra books in preparation for their lesson on Summoning Charms.

Even Hagrid was adding to their workload. The Blast-Ended Skrewts were growing at a remarkable pace given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate. Hagrid was delighted, and as part of their "project," suggested that they come down to his hut on alternate evenings to observe the skrewts and make notes on their extraordinary behaviour. Amara did not want to, for she had to do homework practically every night now.

"I will not," said Draco Malfoy flatly when Hagrid had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra-large toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."

Hagrid's smile faded off his face.

"Yeh'll do wha' yer told," he growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Moody's book. . . . I hear yeh made a good ferret, Malfoy." The Gryffindors roared with laughter. Malfoy flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Moody's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop him from retorting. Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Hagrid put down Malfoy was particularly satisfying, especially because Malfoy had done his very best to get Hagrid sacked the previous year.

In the entrance hall there was a very large crowd milling around what seemed to be a big sign that had been put up near the marble staircase. They couldn't see what it said, however, so they got Ron to look over the heads to read the sign.

"_Triwizard Tournament_," he read. "_The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early —"_

"Brilliant!" said Harry. "It's Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won't have time to poison us all!"

_"Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast_." Ron finished.

"Only a week away!" said Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff, who was rather annoying and pompous, emerging from the crowd, his eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Cedric knows? Think I'll go and tell him. . . ."

"Cedric?" said Ron blankly as Ernie hurried off.

"Diggory," said Harry. "He must be entering the tournament."

"That idiot, Hogwarts champion?" said Ron as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase.

"He's not an idiot," said Amara. "Don't be so rude. Just because he beat us in that Quidditch match."

"I've heard he's a really good student — _and_ he's a prefect." Hermione added.

She spoke as though this settled the matter.

"You only like him because he's _handsome_," said Ron scathingly.

"What?" Amara said. "I do not!"

"I don't like people just because they're handsome!" said Hermione indignantly.

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like

"Lockhart!"

"I didn't think he was handsome!" Amara said hotly. "You just can't see passed Quidditch."

She and Hermione marched themselves into the Great Hall after that.

-OOOOO-

For the week leading up to the thirtieth of October the thing everyone was talking about was the Triwizard Tournament. It was a common thing to walk down the corridors and hear three different rumours about the same thing. Amara heard too many rumours for her liking: about who was going in for the Tournament, what there was going to be and what the visiting schools were like. In Ancient Runes, Terry eagerly explained to her in detail about a made-up rumour he had heard. Amara pointed out a rather big flaw immediately, meaning Terry looked put down for most of the lesson.

The castle itself seemed to be going under rather vigorous cleaning. Never before had the suits of armour been gleaned quite as much, or moved without squeaking. Some of the grimy portraits had been wiped and scrubbed, much to the annoyance of the occupants, who now had raw pink faces. They muttered to themselves and glared at everyone. Argus Filch, the caretaker, was even more harsh than usual, yelling at people for not wiping their feet, his vein always popping in his forehead.

"Longbottom, kindly do _not_ reveal that you can't even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!" Professor McGonagall barked at the end of a Transfiguration lesson. It had been rather hard lesson, even for Amara, but Neville had transplanted his own ears into two cactuses.

When they went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

That morning, they walked over to where Fred and George were sitting, unusually apart from the rest of the crowds. Amara couldn't understand why they kept doing it.

"It's a bummer, all right," George was saying gloomily to Fred. "But if he won't talk to us in person, we'll have to send him the letter after all. Or we'll stuff it into his hand. He can't avoid us forever."

"Who's avoiding you?" said Ron, sitting down next to George. Amara sat next to Fred and Hermione sat next to her.

"Wish you would," said Fred, looking irritated at the interruption. Amara started on her cereal whilst listening in.

"What's a bummer?" Ron asked George.

"Having a nosy git like you for a brother," said George.

"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?"

Harry asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"

"I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said George bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Ron thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Harry. And you Amara. We've done dangerous stuff before. . . ."

"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Fred. "McGonagall says the champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."

"We'd be pretty rubbish then," Amara laughed. "We just make it up as we go along."

"Who are the judges?" Harry asked.

"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are always on the panel," said Hermione, and everyone looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."

She noticed them all looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody else had read all the books she had, "It's all in _Hogwarts, A History_. Though, of course, that book's not _entirely_ reliable. 'A _Revised _History of Hogwarts' would be a more accurate title. Or 'A Highly Biased and _Selective_ History of Hogwarts, Which Glosses Over the Nastier Aspects of the School.'"

Amara groaned, knowing exactly what was coming. Fred, George and Harry seemed to know as well, but Ron did not.

"What are you on about?" said Ron.

_"__House-elves!"_ said Hermione, her eyes flashing. "Not once, in over a thousand pages, does _Hogwarts, A History_ mention that we are all colluding in the oppression of a hundred slaves!"

Amara, who wasn't completely opposed to house-elf rights than Harry and Ron, still got irritated by how much Hermione went on about it. Amara got annoyed at how horrible the house-elves were treated in some places, but she didn't want to be like Hermione, who rattled the collecting tin under their noses in the common room. "_You do realize that your sheets are changed, your fires lit, your classrooms cleaned, and your food cooked by a group of magical creatures who are unpaid and enslaved?"_ she kept saying fiercely. Amara, Harry and Ron had all bought a badge to shut her up, Amara even trying to come up with a few ideas, but Hermione kept on and on at them to do more stuff towards it. The two sickles had been wasted, considering they never wore the badges anyways.

Some people, like Neville, had paid up just to stop Hermione from glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke.

Ron now rolled his eyes at the ceiling, which was flooding them all in autumn sunlight, and Fred immediately drew Amara into a very interesting conversation about his bacon. (both twins had refused to buy a S.P.E.W. badge).

"It's very nicely cooked today," he said, poking it with his fork. Amara tried to stop herself from smiling.

"Yes, it looks _excellent," _she said, nodding. "I might have to have a piece myself."

"I'd advise it," said Fred seriously. "It's a very nice thing to have on a Friday morning." George was now speaking to Hermione about the school kitchens.

"I think I shall," said Amara, giggling slightly. Fred grinned back at her and her stomach flipped slightly. She pushed this feeling down and instead helped herself to some bacon.

"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" Hermione was saying hotly, but her next few words were drowned out by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead, which announced the arrival of the post owls. Hermione stopped talking abruptly as Hedwig flew down onto the Gryffindor table. Amara, Hermione and Ron watched Hedwig anxiously as she fluttered down onto Harry's shoulder, folded her wings, and held out her leg wearily.

Harry pulled off Sirius's reply and offered Hedwig his bacon rinds, which she ate gratefully. Then, checking that Fred and George were safely immersed in further discussions about the Triwizard Tournament, Harry read out Sirius's letter in a whisper to Ron and Hermione.

_Nice try, Harry._

_I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what I said about your scar._

_Sirius_

"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Ron asked in a low voice.

"Hedwig'll attract too much attention," said Hermione at once. "She stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever he's hiding . . . I mean, they're not native birds, are they?"

Amara gulped down her bacon forcefully as she realised what a dangerous situation Sirius was now in.

"Thanks, Hedwig," Harry said, stroking her. She hooted sleepily, dipped her beak briefly into his goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery. They left the Great Hall quickly after that, saying goodbye to Fred and George, who were still discussing whether they could jinx the judges.

During lessons that day, nobody paid much attention. Amara and Hermione were excited for Beauxbatons and Jesse arriving at Hogwarts and everyone else was excited for Durmstrang as well. In History of Magic, everyone was buzzing, although Professor Binns droned on as if it was a boring day in January. In Charms, even Amara stopped listening, but Professor Flitwick, who seemed just as excited, spoke about all the things he'd heard about the Triwizard Tournament before it had been stopped.

Even Potions was more bearable, considering they had half an hour less of it that day. When the final bell rang, Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione practically ran with the others up to Gryffindor tower so they could drop their bags off before going back down and waiting for instructions in the entrance hall.

The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines.

"Weasley, straighten your hat," Professor McGonagall snapped at Ron. "Miss Patil, take that ridiculous thing out of your hair."

Parvati scowled and removed a large ornamental butterfly from the end of her plait.

"Follow me, please," said Professor McGonagall. "First years in front . . . no pushing. . . ."

They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. Amara shivered a little, very glad she had picked up her cloak, for eventhough it was clear, it was very cold. The moon was already starting to show over the top of the Forbidden Forest, which looked eerie and foreboding. Amara saw Ethan standing with Eddie, looking very excited at the prospect of the visiting schools.

"Nearly six," said Ron, checking his watch and then staring down the drive that led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The train?"

"I doubt it," said Hermione.

"How, then? Broomsticks?" Harry suggested, looking up at the starry sky.

"I don't think so . . . not from that far away. . . ."

"They'd fall off," said Amara. "Maybe they'll take a Portkey?"

"They could Apparate?" Ron suggested. "— maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds, how often do I have to tell you?" said Hermione impatiently.

"And Jesse's taking his test this year because he was seventeen in July," said Amara.

They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. Amara shivered again. She wished they'd hurry up. It wasn't fun standing in the cold. She adjusted her cloak so it was around her more and stamped her feet impatiently.

And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers —

"Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.

"_There_!" yelled a sixth year, pointing over the forest.

Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.

"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first years, losing her head completely.

"Don't be stupid . . . it's a flying house!" said Dennis Creevey.

It was funny because Dennis' guess was closer to anyone else's. As the black shape flew over the Forbidden Forest, the lights from the castle windows shone on it, reflecting a gigantic powder blue carriage, the size of a large house and was being pulled by elephant sized, palomino horses, each with huge wings sprouting from their backs. They flew over the forest and downwards.

The students in the front three rows hurried backwards as the carriage hurtled lower and lower onto the ground. When it seemed they were close enough, which was near the front doors, the colossal horses stopped at an amazing speed, their giant hooves slamming onto the ground, shaking the earth beneath it. Seconds later, the carriage landed too, bouncing slightly on its massive wheels, which were golden. The horses looked frightening up close, their red eyes standing out on their golden heads, tossing them and breathing steam from their nostrils. Amara stepped on her tiptoes to see what was going on completely.

The door of the carriage, with the Beauxbatons coat of arms, opened and a familiar brown headed boy jumped out, dressed in pale blue robes, that matched the carriage. Jesse bent down and fumbled with something on the floor of the carriage before unfolding a set of gleaming golden steps.

Out of the door came the biggest woman Amara had ever seen. She gasped at the size of the shoe, black, shining and high-heeled, which didn't help the woman's height, that came out of the carriage, followed by the rest of her. It was surprising how shocked Amara was at the size of her, considering how she had seen Hagrid all the time for the past three years. Maybe it was because of that which made Amara gasp at the size. The crowds of students stared at her, drawing in her olive skin, black eyes and black, shiny hair, drawn tightly to the back of her head, and a beaky nose. She was dressed in black as well, a nice, rich satin, that went from head to foot, and on her necklace were what seemed to be whole opals that shone from the light in the entrance hall.

Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman, which wasn't really needed, considering she towered over them all.

Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.

"My dear Madame Maxime," he said. "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," said Madame Maxime in a deep voice and much more pronounce French accent than Tally, Jesse or Noah had ever had. "I 'ope I find you well?"

"On excellent form, I thank you," said Dumbledore.

"My pupils," said Madame Maxime, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Jesse had now been joined by a dozen or so boys and girls, all wearing the same robes as him, standing behind Madame Maxime. Amara noted Adrien Page standing next to Jesse, looking older than he did when Amara had met him. They were all shivering slightly, which wasn't that surprising, for the pale blue robes they were wearing were thin and made of silk, and none of them had brought cloaks, eventhough it was the end of October. Amara felt Hermione rise herself up to get a goof look of Jesse, who was scanning the crowds for them. He spotted them and his face broke out into a grin, he nudged Adrien, who looked at Amara too, seeming to remember her and nodding, smiling.

" 'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," said Dumbledore. "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step in- side and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," said Madame Maxime. "But ze 'orses —"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Dumbledore, "the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other — er — charges."

"Skrewts," Ron muttered to Amara and Harry, grinning.

"My steeds require — er — forceful 'andling," said Madame Maxime, looking as though she doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Hogwarts could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong. . . ."

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," said Dumbledore, smiling.

"Very well," said Madame Maxime, bowing slightly. "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," said Dumbledore, also bowing.

"Come," said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps.

"How big d'you reckon Durmstrang's horses are going to be?" Seamus said, leaning around Lavender and Parvati to address Amara, Harry and Ron.

"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Hagrid won't be able to handle them," said Harry. "That's if he hasn't been attacked by his skrewts. Wonder what's up with them?"

"Maybe they've escaped," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh don't say that," said Hermione with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds. . . ."

"Imagine trying to catch them again," said Amara.

They stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky.

For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime's huge horses snorting and stamping. But then —

"Can you hear something?" said Ron suddenly.

There was a weird noise, loud and eerie, coming out from the darkness, it was like it was sucking something, and rumbling along.

"The lake!" yelled Lee Jordan, pointing down at it. "Look at the lake!"

From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, they had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water — except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks — and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake's floor. . . .

What seemed to be a long, black pole began to rise slowly out of the heart of the whirlpool, there was rigging and sails –

"It's a mast!" Harry said unnecessarily to Amara, Ron and Hermione.

Slowly, magnificently, the ship rose out of the water, gleaming in the moonlight. It had a strangely skeletal look about it, as though it were a resurrected wreck, and the dim, misty lights shimmering at its portholes looked like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the ship emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide toward the bank. A few moments later, they heard the splash of an anchor being thrown down in the shallows, and the thud of a plank being lowered onto the bank.

The people inside were walking through the ship to get outside. They walked passed the lights in the ships portholes, making their large silhouettes expand greatly. Amara was nervous for them to come out, they all looked like Crabbe and Goyle sized men instead of normal sized people. They exited the boat and walked up the lawns to the entrance hall. She breathed a sigh of relief as she found they weren't as huge as they seemed, instead, they were wearing thick fur cloaks. The man walking in front, who was older and most definitely the headmaster, wore more expensive fur, sleek and shiny, that matched him.

"Dumbledore!" he called heartily as he walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied.

The man named Karkaroff had a fruity, unctuous voice, annoying in Amara's ears; when he stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle they saw that he was tall and thin like Dumbledore, but his white hair was short, and his goatee (finishing in a small curl) did not entirely hide his rather weak chin. When he reached Dumbledore, he shook hands with both of his own.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he said, looking up at the castle and smiling; his teeth were rather yellow, and his eyes were black and heartless. Amara did not like looking at them. "How good it is to be here, how good. . . . Viktor, come along, into the warmth . . . you don't mind, Dumbledore? Viktor has a slight head cold. . . ."

Karkaroff beckoned forward one of his students. He was recognisable in an instant. How many times had Amara seen him plastered on a wall of a tent? It was quite unnecessary for Ron to pinch her and Harry both and hiss in both their ears.

"It's _Krum_!"


	16. The Goblet of Fire

**_A/N Wow, 102 reviews! I am so happy! :D THANK YOU SO MUCH! So here's quite a long chapter, but the next one is quite small, sadly, which I tried to change but didn't really make it longer. So enjoy and remember to R&R! xxx_**

**_Chapter Sixteen_**

**_The Goblet of Fire_**

"I don't believe it!" Ron said, in a stunned voice, as the Hogwarts students filed back up the steps behind the party from Durmstrang. "Krum, Harry! _Viktor Krum!"_

"For heaven's sake, Ron, he's only a Quidditch player," said Hermione.

_"__Only a Quidditch player?"_ Ron said, looking at her as though he couldn't believe his ears. "Hermione — he's one of the best Seekers in the world! I had no idea he was still at school!"

"Yes, well I think we've established that he is. Keep moving, I'm hungry," Amara said.

Everyone from Hogwarts were now chattering excitedly and trying to get a look at Viktor Krum. Lee Jordan was bouncing up and down in his effort to see him and a few seventh years were buffering through the crowd, trying to get to Krum first. Lots of girls from what seemed to be sixth year were searching frantically for a quill of some sort.

"Oh I don't believe it, I haven't got a single quill on me —"

"D'you think he'd sign my hat in lipstick?"

"_Really_," Hermione said loftily as they passed the girls, now squabbling over the lipstick.

_"__I'm_ getting his autograph if I can," said Ron. "You haven't got a quill, have you, Harry?"

"Nope, they're upstairs in my bag," said Harry.

"Amara?"

"No," said Amara. "I left them in my bag."

They walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down. Ron took care to sit on the side facing the doorway, because Krum and his fellow Durmstrang students were still gathered around it, apparently unsure about where they should sit. Jesse, Adrien and the other students from Beauxbatons were sat at the Ravenclaw table. Most of the girls and some of the boys were looking very glum indeed, looking around the Great Hall with turned up noses. Three girls had kept some scarves around their heads as though it was mid-winter.

"It's not _that_ cold," said Hermione defensively. "Why didn't they bring cloaks?"

"Not part of their uniform," Amara said vaguely, watching Krum. She didn't see what all the fuss was about, but she still wanted to meet him all the same.

"Over here! Come and sit over here!" Ron hissed. "Over here! Hermione, budge up, make a space —"

"What?"

"Too late," said Ron bitterly. Amara sighed as Krum and his fellow students from Durmstrang had taken spaces on the Slytherin table. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle all looked stupidly smug.

"Could've sat with the Hufflepuffs," Amara muttered. "Anyone but Malfoy."

"Yeah, that's right, smarm up to him, Malfoy," said Ron scathingly as Malfoy spoke to Krum. "I bet Krum can see right through him, though . . . bet he gets people fawning over him all the time. . . . Where d'you reckon they're going to sleep? We could offer him a space in our dormitory, Harry . . . I wouldn't mind giving him my bed, I could kip on a camp bed."

Hermione snorted.

"They look a lot happier than the Beauxbatons lot," said Harry. The Durmstrang students were pulling off their heavy furs and looking up at the starry black ceiling with expressions of interest; a couple of them were picking up the golden plates and goblets and examining them, apparently impressed.

"I expect it's warmer here for them, but colder here for Beauxbatons," said Amara.

Amara saw Jesse looking around and she waved at him. Hermione, who was facing away from them, turned too.

Argus Filch was adding chairs to the teachers table. He put two either side of Dumbledore instead of just two.

"But there are only two extra people," Harry said. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs, who else is coming?"

"Eh?" said Ron vaguely. He was still staring avidly at Krum.

"I'm not sure," said Amara, looking. "Maybe there's more of them?"

When all the students had entered the Hall and settled down at their House tables, the staff entered, filing up to the top table and taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime. When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, they kept upright and Amara thought their manners were rather good to their Headmistress, not much for Hogwarts though. They did not sit back down on their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore remained standing, and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and — most particularly — guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head and sitting right next to Jesse gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh. Jesse nudged her slightly, frowning.

"No one's making you stay!" Hermione whispered, bristling at her. "And who is she?" She added. Amara shrugged.

"One of Jesse's friends?"

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.

The plates before them filled with vast amount of food. There were a lot more dishes than usual, it seemed the house elves had made more food to accommodate the foreign guests. There were many dishes Amara had never seen before, but a few she knew and recognised.

"What's _that_?" said Ron, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Amara and Hermione.

"Bless you," said Ron.

"It's _French_," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday summer before last. It's very nice."

"I'll take your word for it," said Ron, helping himself to black pudding. Amara wrinkled her nose up at the black pudding and helped herself to Shepard's pie instead.

The dinner felt much more crowded than usual. It was as though there were fifty more students that had arrived instead of little more than twenty. And their uniforms stood out from the robes that Hogwarts wore - the pale blue and blood red from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang contrasted greatly.

After twenty minutes of just eating, the four of them noticed Hagrid coming into the Great Hall with bandages on his hands. He waved at Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione and beamed at them.

"Skrewts doing all right, Hagrid?" Harry called.

"Thrivin'," Hagrid called back happily.

"Yeah, I'll just bet they are," said Ron quietly. "Looks like they've

finally found a food they like, doesn't it? Hagrid's fingers." Amara laughed.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?"

It was Jesse's friend from Beauxbatons who had laughed in Dumbledore's speech. She had taken her muffler off and a sheet of silvery blonde hair had been revealed. It was even blonder than Tally's and her eyes were a gorgeous shade of deep blue, similar to the Reynolds'. Jesse was standing next to her, beaming down at them.

"Alright Amara? Hermione?"

"Hey Jesse," Amara smiled and the girl looked at Jesse.

"Ez zis the cousin you were talking about?" the girl said, looking at Amara.

"Yes," said Jesse. "This is Fleur, I must've mentioned her at some point." Amara remembered vaguely a conversation with her name in it.

"It's lovely to meet you," said Amara.

"It's lovely to meet you to," said Fleur, smiling and shaking her hand delicately. Amara realised she wasn't bad at all. "'Ave you finished wiz the bouillabaisse? Jesse and I would like some more."

"Oh, yes we have," said Amara. "You can take it."

Fleur smiled at her and picked up the dish carefully.

"I'll see you at ze table, Jessamine," and Fleur walked back to the Ravenclaw table.

Jesse winced at the name.

_"Jessamine_?" Harry said.

"She likes the name," said Jesse. He rolled his eyes. Amara the noticed that Ron was staring at the girl, looking purple in the face and Hermione was giving the girl a death glare.

"She's a _veela_!" Ron said.

"Of course she isn't!" said Hermione in a high voice. "I don't see anyone else gaping at her like an idiot!"

A lot of boys' heads had turned as Fleur walked back to her seat.

"I think she is actually," said Jesse, rubbing his neck as he thought about it. "Her grandmother or something was, so she's more veela than Tally, she's like not even an eighth veela."

Hermione's scowl deepened as Jesse said goodbye and went back to sit down again.

"I don't like her," said Hermione.

"Just because she's pretty you think you have competition," Amara snapped, defending her cousin and Fleur. "Jesse likes you, no need to get jealous."

Ron was looking slightly shocked as well.

"Tally's part veela?" he said.

"Not by very much," said Amara.

"Well," said Ron. "Why do they all go to Beauxbatons? They don't make them like that at Hogwarts!"

"They make them okay at Hogwarts," said Harry absentmindedly and Amara and Hermione rolled their eyes.

"When you've both put your eyes back in," said Hermione briskly, "you'll be able to see who's just arrived."

She was pointing up at the staff table. The two remaining empty seats had just been filled. Ludo Bagman was now sitting on Professor Karkaroff's other side, while Mr Crouch, Percy's boss, was next to Madame Maxime.

"What are they doing here?" said Harry looking surprise.

"They organized the Triwizard Tournament, didn't they?" said Hermione. "I suppose they wanted to be here to see it start."

When the second course arrived they noticed a number of unfamiliar desserts too. Ron examined an odd sort of pale blancmange closely, then moved it carefully a few inches to his right, so that it would be clearly visible from the Ravenclaw table. Amara scowled at him and took the pudding herself, thinking about Tally. Fleur did not come back over anyway.

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Everyone was waiting for Dumbledore to speak, all excited and expectant. Several seats down from them, Fred and George were leaning forward, staring at Dumbledore with great concentration.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket —"

"The what?" Harry muttered. Amara and Ron shrugged.

"— just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this

year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mr Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation" — there was a smattering of polite applause — "and Mr Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a Beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. This was part of the reason everyone clapped harder for Bagman. Crouch looked rather out of place with his smart robes and moustache. It was even straighter and neater than at the Quidditch World Cup.

"Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining myself, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word "champions," the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mr Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's. Amara looked on eagerly as well, staring at the magnificent casket with interest.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr Crouch and Mr Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways . . . their magical prowess — their daring — their powers of deduction — and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall. The blue flames danced at them, making shadows on the walls.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Hallowe'en, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

"An Age Line!" Fred said, his eyes glinting, as they all made their way across the Hall to the doors into the entrance hall. "Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn't it? And once your name's in that goblet, you're laughing — it can't tell whether you're seventeen or not!"

"But I don't think anyone under seventeen will stand a chance," said Hermione, "we just haven't learned enough . . ."

"Speak for yourself," said George shortly. "You'll try and get in, won't you, Harry?"

"I think Dumbledore knows what he's doing," Amara pointed out.

"Where is he?" said Ron, who wasn't listening to a word of this conversation, but looking through the crowd to see what had become of Krum. "Dumbledore didn't say where the Durmstrang people are sleeping, did he?"

But this query was answered almost instantly; they were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Krum shook his head as he pulled his furs back on. The other boys were doing the same.

"Professor, _I _vood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to _you_, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. It was probably because Krum was famous. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy —"

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him.

And then Karkaroff froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon his scar. The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. Amara refrained herself from rolling her eyes at the boy pointing at Harry's head.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The colour drained from Karkaroff's face as everyone watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he said, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true; half the students in the Hall were now waiting be- hind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face. Amara and Hermione exchanged looks as they began their ascent to Gryffindor Tower. Ron was jabbering on about Krum to Harry, who looked slightly weary and Hermione turned to Amara.

"How long has Jesse known the girl?"

"I don't know," Amara shrugged. "They've been friends for ages, I think, and they're friends with Adrien Page."

Hermione did not look very comforted.

-OOOOO-

Amara, Hermione, Harry and Ron went down to breakfast early Saturday morning. They didn't usually do this, but everyone else had the same idea, for when Amara and Hermione left their dorm, all the other girls were awake and getting ready.

A lot of people were walking around in the entrance hall as well, eating toast and examining the Goblet of Fire that now stood on the Sorting stool and had a thin gold line around it.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Ron asked a third-year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

"Bet some of them put it in last night after we'd all gone to bed," said Harry. "I would've if it had been me . . . wouldn't have wanted everyone watching. What if the goblet just gobbed you right back out again?"

Amara laughed as someone else did too from behind them.

Turning, they saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "Just taken it."

"What?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

Amara scoffed. "It's not going to work," she said and Fred and George looked at her. "Dumbledore would have thought of it."

"So little faith you have in us," said Fred.

"Ready?" He said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then — I'll go first —"

Amara folded her arms and watched Fred take a piece of parchment out of his pocket. It read _'Fred Weasley - Hogwarts'_. Fred went up to the line and stood there, rocking on his toes so that everyone looked at him. Amara rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile slightly at how attention seeking he was. He took a deep breath and walked over the line. Amara raised an eyebrow as she thought he'd actually done it. George yelled in triumph and jumped in too. Next moment there was a sizzling and Fred and George shot backwards ten feet and landed on the floor. Amara watched as there was a pop and each twin had long white beards. Her shock turned to mirth as everyone roared with laughter. Fred and George joined in too once looking at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter, and Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, also chortling, went in to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Hallowe'en, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

"There's a rumour going around that Warrington got up early and put his name in," Dean told Harry. "That big bloke from Slytherin who looks like a sloth."

"_Warrington_?" Amara said in disgust.

"We can't have a Slytherin champion!" said Harry.

"And all the Hufflepuffs are talking about Diggory," said Seamus contemptuously. "But I wouldn't have thought he'd have wanted to risk his good looks."

Amara scowled at him.

"Listen!" said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the entrance hall. They all swivelled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. A tall black girl who played Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Angelina came over to them, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

"You're kidding!" said Ron, looking impressed.

"Are you seventeen, then?" asked Harry.

" 'Course she is, can't see a beard, can you?" said Ron.

"I had my birthday last week," said Angelina.

"Thank Merlin you're entering," said Amara. "It'll be nice to see a Gryffindor entering - who wants Warrington?"

"Thanks, Amara," said Angelina, smiling at her.

"Yeah, better you than Pretty-Boy Diggory," said Seamus, causing several Hufflepuffs passing their table to scowl heavily at him.

"What're we going to do today, then?" Ron asked Amara, Harry and Hermione when they had finished breakfast and were leaving the Great Hall.

"We haven't been down to visit Hagrid yet," said Harry.

"Okay," said Ron, "just as long as he doesn't ask us to donate a few fingers to the skrewts."

A look of great excitement suddenly dawned on Hermione's face.

"I've just realized — I haven't asked Hagrid to join S.P.E.W. yet!" she said brightly. "Wait for me, will you, while I nip upstairs and get the badges?"

"What's she like?" said Ron, exasperated, as Hermione ran away up the marble staircase.

"Hey, look," said Harry suddenly. "It's that Fleur girl . . ."

The Beauxbatons students had come from the grounds and had entered the Entrance Hall. Amara smiled at Jesse as he stood with Adrien, Fleur and another girl.

Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organised them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the Age Line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks. Jesse went last, dropping his name in with concentration.

"What d'you reckon'll happen to the ones who aren't chosen?" Ron muttered to Harry as the veela-girl dropped her parchment into the Goblet of Fire. "Reckon they'll go back to school, or hang around to watch the tournament?"

"They'll stay," said Amara. "Work here probably."

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the hall and out onto the grounds again. Jesse waved at them before disappearing with Adrien and Fleur.

"Where are _they_ sleeping, then?" said Ron, moving toward the front doors and staring after them.

A loud rattling noise behind them announced Hermione's re-appearance with the box of S.P.E.W. badges.

"Oh good, hurry up," said Ron, and he jumped down the stone steps, keeping his eyes on the back of Fleur, who was now halfway across the lawn with Madame Maxime.

"Keep looking and you'll have no eyes," snapped Amara. Ron flushed.

As they neared Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, the mystery of the Beauxbatons' sleeping quarters was solved. The gigantic powder-blue carriage in which they had arrived had been parked two hundred yards from Hagrid's front door, and the students were climbing back inside it. The elephantine flying horses that had pulled the carriage were now grazing in a makeshift paddock alongside it.

Harry knocked on Hagrid's door, and Fang's booming barks answered instantly

"'Bout time!" said Hagrid, when he'd flung open the door and seen who was on his doorstep. "Thought you lot'd forgotten where I live!"

"We've been really busy, Hag —" Hermione started to say, but then she stopped dead, looking up at Hagrid, apparently lost for words. Amara's mouth fell open in surprise. Hagrid was wearing a horrible hairy brown suit and a yellow and orange checked tie that clashed horribly. His hair had what seemed to be axle grease in it to slick it back and it was shied into two bunches. It looked like he taken a leaf out of Bill's book but failed terribly. Amara openly stared as Hermione tried to think of something to say.

"Erm — where are the skrewts?" She said finally and Amara closed her mouth.

"Out by the pumpkin patch," said Hagrid happily. "They're gettin' massive, mus' be nearly three foot long now. On'y trouble is, they've started killin' each other."

"Oh no, really?" said Hermione, shooting a repressive look at Amara and Ron, who were both staring at Hagrid and were ready to comment on it.

"Yeah," said Hagrid sadly. " 'S' okay, though, I've got 'em in separate boxes now. Still got abou' twenty."

"Well, that's lucky," said Ron. Hagrid missed the sarcasm.

They entered Hagrid's homely cabin, which was small, bright and jolly. They sat down at the table while Hagrid started to make tea, and were soon immersed in yet more discussion of the Triwizard Tournament. Hagrid seemed quite as excited about it as they were.

"You wait," he said, grinning. "You jus' wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh've never seen before. Firs' task . . . ah, but I'm not supposed ter say."

"Go on, Hagrid!" Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione urged him, but he just shook his head, grinning.

"I don' want ter spoil it fer yeh," said Hagrid. "But it's gonna be spectacular, I'll tell yeh that. Them champions're going ter have their work cut out. Never thought I'd live ter see the Triwizard Tournament played again!"

They ended up having lunch with Hagrid, though they didn't eat much — Hagrid had made what he said was a beef casserole, but after Hermione unearthed a large talon in hers, she, Amara, Harry, and Ron rather lost their appetites and didn't touch the rest of the food. However, they enjoyed themselves trying to make Hagrid tell them what the tasks in the tournament were going to be, speculating which of the entrants were likely to be selected as champions, and wondering whether Fred and George were beardless yet.

A light rain had started to fall by midafternoon; it was very cozy sitting by the fire, listening to the gentle patter of the drops on the window, watching Hagrid darning his socks and arguing with Hermione about house-elves — for he flatly refused to join S.P.E.W. when she showed him her badges. Amara was content with being amused with the argument and eating a chocolate frog she found in her pocket.

"It'd be doin' 'em an unkindness, Hermione," he said gravely, threading a massive bone needle with thick yellow yarn. "It's in their nature ter look after humans, that's what they like, see? Yeh'd be makin' 'em unhappy ter take away their work, an' insultin' 'em if yeh tried ter pay 'em."

"But Harry set Dobby free, and he was over the moon about it!" said Hermione. "_And_ we heard he's asking for wages now!"

"Yeah, well, yeh get weirdos in every breed. I'm not sayin' there isn't the odd elf who'd take freedom, but yeh'll never persuade most of 'em ter do it — no, nothin' doin', Hermione."

Hermione looked very cross indeed and stuffed her box of badges back into her cloak pocket. Amara, Harry and Ron exchanged amused glances.

By half past five it was growing dark, and Amara, Ron, Harry, and Hermione decided it was time to get back up to the castle for the Hallowe'en feast, which was not as exciting as the announcement of the Triwizard Champions.

"I'll come with yeh," said Hagrid, putting away his darning. "Jus' give us a sec."

Hagrid got up, went across to the chest of drawers beside his bed, and began searching for something inside it. They didn't pay too much attention until a truly horrible smell reached their nostrils.

Coughing, Ron said, "Hagrid, what's that?"

"Eh?" said Hagrid, turning around with a large bottle in his hand. "Don' yeh like it?"

"Is that aftershave?" said Hermione in a slightly choked voice.

"Merlins pants," choked Amara.

"Er — eau de cologne," Hagrid muttered. He was blushing. "Maybe it's a bit much," he said gruffly. "I'll go take it off, hang on . . .

He stumped out of the cabin, and they saw him washing himself vigorously in the water barrel outside the window.

"Eau de cologne?" said Hermione in amazement. _"Hagrid?"_

"And what's with the hair and the suit?" said Harry in an undertone.

"It's ridiculous!" Amara said.

"Look!" said Ron suddenly, pointing out of the window.

Hagrid had just straightened up and turned around. If he had been blushing before, it was nothing to what he was doing now. He was as red as a tomato and the four of them realised that the Beauxbatons students had exited their carriage with Madame Maxime. They looked out the window as Hagrid spoke to her, not knowing what was being said, but his expression was very weird. It was misty eyes and enraptured with Madame Maxime. "He's going up to the castle with her!" said Hermione indignantly. "I thought he was waiting for us!"

Without so much as a backward glance at his cabin, Hagrid was trudging off up the grounds with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students following in their wake, jogging to keep up with their enormous strides.

"He fancies her!" said Ron incredulously. "Well, if they end up having children, they'll be setting a world record — bet any baby of theirs would weigh about a ton."

They let themselves out of the cabin and shut the door behind them. It was surprisingly dark outside. Drawing their cloaks more closely around themselves, they set off up the sloping lawns.

"Can't believe Hagrid ditched us," Amara muttered.

"Ooh it's them, look!" Hermione whispered.

The Durmstrang party was walking up toward the castle from the lake. Viktor Krum was walking side by side with Karkaroff, and the other Durmstrang students were straggling along behind them. Ron watched Krum excitedly, but Krum did not look around as he reached the front doors a little ahead of Amara, Hermione, Ron, and Harry and proceeded through them.

When they entered the candlelit Great Hall it was almost full. The Goblet of Fire had been moved; it was now standing in front of Dumbledore's empty chair at the teachers' table. The four friends went and sat down next to Fred and George.

"You're beardless I see," Amara said as they sat down.

"Thank Merlin," said Fred. "It was horribly itchy."

"I don't know," said Amara thoughtfully. "I thought it looked rather dashing."

Fred and George smirked, but Fred had a little red tinge on his face.

"Yeah, well," he cleared his throat. "Hope it's Angelina."

"So do I!" said Hermione breathlessly. "Well, we'll soon know!"

The Hallowe'en feast seemed to take much longer than usual. Normally Amara enjoyed it immensely, she loved the feast with the Hallowe'en decorations. But it seemed, because there had been an immense feast yesterday Amara and the rest of the people in the Great Hall didn't enjoy it as much as usual.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the puddings vanished and left the plates gleaming; the steady chatter dies quickly as soon as Dumbledore got to his feet. There was a tense, excited atmosphere in the Great Hall - Madame Maxime and Professor Karkaroff looked tense and expectant. Ludo Bagman was looking like a schoolboy again, beaming and winking at people, the stark opposite of Bartemius Crouch, who looked bored and unamused.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" — he indicated the door behind the staff table — "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now shone more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. . . . A few people kept checking their watches. . . .

"Any second," Lee Jordan whispered, two seats away from the four friends, next to Fred and George. Amara jiggled her leg impatiently, watching the flames vividly.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it — the whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Amara whooped and cheered with the rest as Viktor Krum stood up from the Slytherin table and slouched towards Dumbledore. He passed the teachers table and into the side chamber that Dumbledore had indicated.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

Amara cheered harder for Fleur as she stood up and walked down the tables. Jesse was clapping hard as well, grinning madly, but had a flicker of disappointment on his face. The rest of the Beauxbatons girls had dissolved into tears.

"Look," giggled Amara. "They're all so disappointed."

Hermione laughed too, looking at Jesse from the other side of the Hall.

When Fleur too had vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again, but this time it was a silence so stiff with excitement you could almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next . . .

And the Goblet of Fire turned red once more; sparks showered out of it; the tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

"Good!" Amara beamed, clapping hard. "At least it's not Warrington!" She said loudly to Hermione, who nodded.

Every Hufflepuff had jumped to his of her feet, over the moon that someone from Hufflepuff had been chosen. Cedric, grinning broadly, walked up the table and followed the lead of the two other champions before him.

Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as at last the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —"

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Automatically, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat and read out —

_"__Harry Potter."_


	17. The Four Champions

**_A/N Shorter chapter, but I updated quicker ^_^ THANK YOU for the reviews! Can't believe I've got 109 reviews! More than GQ-Y1 & GQ-Y2's reviews put together! :) so please R&R xxx_**

**_Chapter Seventeen_**

**_The Four Champions _**

Amara's mouth fell open in complete surprise. She turned her head slowly and looked at Harry, who was looking a mix between stunned and a look of horror in his face. Hermione and Ron had done the same.

Amara didn't know what to think. Her mind had gone blank and her heart was thudding.

Harry was in the_ Triwizard Tournament._

_Underage._

People had_ died._

Feeling slightly sick now, she looked at him in horror as his dazed look stayed on his face. The people in the Great hall were whispering together, there was no clapping, just points and whispers. People were standing up to get a look at Harry, stock still in his chair.

How on _earth_ had this happened? Amara knew immediately that Harry had not done this himself. She _knew_ someone else had done it. But why? And who? Malfoy maybe? He'd always want to humiliate Harry, but everyone wanted to be in the tournament, why would he do that?

And nobody had managed to pass Dumbledore's Age Line, not even Fred and George. And Harry himself hadn't been away from them the entire time the Goblet of Fire had been there - they'd gone to bed the day before and went to Hagrid's that day.

Amara caught Jesse's confused eye. He raised an eyebrow in question, looking rather peeved, but Amara's face said it all. He lowered his eyebrow and looked slightly shocked. His fellow Beauxbatons students were scowling and whispering angrily. Adrien lent over to Jesse to question him, so Amara looked away. She couldn't blame them for being annoyed, Hogwarts hosts the Triwizard Tournament and suddenly they get two champions?

Professor McGonagall had left her seat at the staff table, swept passed Ludo Bagman and Professor Karkaroff, both of whom were looking shocked as well, but the latter looking angry. She went up to Dumbledore and started whispering in his ear. Dumbledore listened to her whispers, frowning slightly.

She turned back to Harry, who still looked shell-shocked. He had finally found his voice.

"I didn't put my name in," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't."

Amara couldn't say anything but she nodded her head in recognition, which Harry took. She swallowed as the angry buzzing got louder. The people at every table were talking in whispers, staring at Harry's head.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"You'd better go," Amara whispered hoarsely and she pushed Harry slightly to get up. He was slightly resistant. "Quickly, Harry!"

Harry stumbled to his feet and set off at a walk towards the top table. Every eye on the Great Hall was staring at him with mixed emotions: anger, jealousy and astonishment. Amara watched as he walked down the table and to where all the staff were sitting, unsmiling and shocked. Professors Flitwick and Sprout were conversing in low tones; Snape had a weird look on his face, a cross between a smirk and a glower; Professor Moody looked blank, which confused Amara and Hagrid looked so astonished he had frozen in his chair. Not two hours ago they had been sitting in his house, talking about what tasks the champions were going to have.

"Well . . . through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling either. He looked solemn and his mouth was in a straight line.

Harry soon disappeared through the chamber door and the buzzing turned into noisy talking. McGonagall and Dumbledore muttered some more words together.

"Oh my god," Amara breathed as the people around them talked about the events.

She turned to look at her friends in horror. Hermione was looking the same as she did (shocked and scared) but Ron had a weird look on his face.

"What's the matter with you?" Amara said.

"Nothing," said Ron. His voice sounded strange too.

"Obviously there is," said Amara, frowning at him. "You realise Harry's name just came out the Goblet of Fire?"

"Oh yes," said Ron. "Funny, how he didn't tell us, isn't it?"

"_What?_" Amara said, gaping at him. "You - you think _he_ put his name in? When or _how_ could he have done that?"

"_I_ don't know," said Ron. "Gave a massive hint this morning, didn't he? About doing it when no one was there."

"That was a _joke!_" Amara said, her voice rising. "You saw his face, he was just as shocked as we were -"

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Professor McGonagall said loudly, successfully drowning out the noise. She and Dumbledore had stopped talking. Amara realised Ludo Bagman had vanished from his chair, presumably going into the chamber to talk to the champions. "You may continue you celebrations in your common rooms."

There was a mad rush for the exit. Everyone evidently wanted to go back to their common rooms and rage about the events. Amara was in no hurry, and neither was Ron. She fumed her way out of the Great Hall, not noticing Hermione's mysterious absence.

"I can't_ believe_ you," she hissed as they walked up to Gryffindor tower. "How can you not trust Harry? He wouldn't lie."

"He could easily lie about this," said Ron. They climbed up the stairs and through the corridors. Amara stomped along, not glancing once at Ron, for she was too frustrated. "Maybe he didn't want anyone to know so he'd get more of a reaction."

"You're ridiculous," snapped Amara. They'd reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, which was open because of all the people flooding in, all conversing in high spirits. "Harry needs our support and you're going against him?"

"He should have told us," said Ron. "You always take his side don't you?"

_"His side?"_ Amara repeated. People were starting to look at them. "This is not about taking sides!"

"What is it then?" Ron retorted.

"It's about being there for a friend!" Amara shot back. Suddenly, a loud voice echoed through the room.

"I have news!" it said. The Gryffindors looked widely around for the subject of the noise and found it was the Fat Lady's friend Violet. She was grinning in an excited sort of way.

"What?" the Gryffindors all shouted at her.

"Harry Potter's competing in the Triwizard Tournament!" the painting said. "It's official!"

Amara scowled at the painting, annoyed once more. She turned back to Ron."Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

She turned on her heel and strode up the dormitory steps all the way to her room. Amara was relieved to find it was empty, so she stomped around it three times, kicking her bed (which hurt, so she didn't do it again) and glowering all the while.

What was up with Ron? How could he say such things about Harry? Harry had never lied to them before. It wasn't a thing you would do, they were joking about putting their names in, weren't they? Amara's thoughts were jumbled up. Hermione would know. She'd know why Ron was acting the way he was. Where was she?

For the next five minutes Amara dressed out of her clothes and into her pyjamas. She suddenly felt rather sad as well as annoyed. And she realised that Hermione was mysteriously absent from the room. She hadn't walked with them up to Gryffindor Tower, nor had she seen her in the common room. Two minutes later, the door opened.

"Where have you been?" Amara asked as Hermione came in the dormitory.

"Um," Hermione blushed slightly. "Talking to Jesse. He wanted to know about Harry."

"Right," said Amara. "Does he not believe it too?"

"What do you mean? Of course he doesn't, he accepted it," said Hermione.

"Yeah well, Ron didn't," said Amara.

Hermione bit her lip.

"I thought so," she said.

Amara raises her eyebrow.

"And you're OK with this? You're OK that Ron believes Harry put his name in the Goblet of Fire so he'd have loads of glory?"

"I doubt he really believes that," said Hermione.

"Then why did he say it?"

"Don't you see?" Hermione said. "He's jealous."

"Jealous?" Amara said. "Because - because Harry gets all the attention." She realised.

"Exactly," said Hermione. "He's had five brothers before him who all have achieved loads, he never gets the limelight - Harry's famous already."

"Harry can't help it," said Amara. "And Ron saved the Philosopher's Stone with us and saved Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets."

"But Harry was still there," said Hermione. "And Harry's the one everyone knows, so he's going to get more attention."

"We don't really help," said Amara. "Well, you don't, being top of class and all."

"But you're the top in Transfiguration and Charms," said Hermione.

"What?" Amara said in surprise.

"You've got higher than me, I thought you knew."

"No," said Amara. "It's not really helping him is it? This must be his last straw."

Hermione nodded.

"He still shouldn't go against Harry though," Amara said defensively. "He should tell him."

"Boys don't do that," said Hermione.

Amara sighed.

"I'm going to go to bed," she said. "And hope it's different in the morning."

Hermione muttered her goodnights as Amara crawled into her bed and closed her hangings. Eventhough she told Hermione that she was going to sleep, it was very hard to. There was a lot of noise coming from downstairs, as it seemed the Gryffindors had thrown a party in Harry's honour. Didn't they realise what a dangerous situation he was in? He was only fourteen! How on earth was he going to compete? They hadn't learnt enough spells or techniques to do all the challenges they were going to face. But the Gryffindors were excited to have a champion in there house. Amara wondered if Ethan and Eddie were downstairs too, celebrating with the other second-years. She hoped they weren't, as the parties Gryffindor had were boisterous and always went on late into the night.

Harry may have come back from the chamber now, Amara thought as she heard Hermione get into her bed, her wand producing a glow so she could do some reading. What would he make of the party going on? And what would he do when he found out that Ron was against him. Amara thought with a jolt that he was probably hoping to get support, because everyone obviously thought he had managed to put his name in the Goblet of Fire, by tricking it.

_How did his name get in? _the thought flowed through Amara's mind constantly. How could someone

Half an hour later, Hermione switched her light from her wand off and went to bed. Her slow breathes signalled that she had fallen asleep rather quickly.

Next to come up was Sophie (she knew from the quietness) who got to bed in five minutes flat and started snoring lightly. It was comforting, listening to the sounds of the people sleeping. She missed this when she was at home, but felt guilty because she never really saw her family very much.

Ten minutes after Sophie arrived, the noise from downstairs lulled slightly and Lavender and Parvati came into the room giggling. They stopped for a second when they realised that everyone was asleep before giggling again.

"You should have seen Seamus' face," Parvati was giggling.

Amara rolled her eyes. Typical. How come all Parvati and Lavender's worries and troubles were nothing?

It was a long time before Amara could finally drop off. When she did, she dreamt that she had been drawn from the Goblet of Fire and the first task was fighting three Acromantula without her wand.

It was deemed very hard and very traumatic, especially because everyone was watching and laughing at her. And Fred was standing with Cedric Diggory, both looking extremely disappointed.

Amara woke up about four o'clock, needing a drink of water. She got some from the jug and watched the dark grounds for any signs of life. When none appeared, she went back to bed, hoping that the day that was going to follow would end much better than it had.


	18. Helping Harry

**_A/N Oops I meant to update the last few days! Sorry! And thanks for the reviews, as always :) R&R xxx_**

**_Chapter Eighteen_**

**_Helping Harry_**

Amara woke up Sunday morning still grouchy from the night before. She got dressed quickly before waiting impatiently for Hermione to finish getting ready. Then, they hastened down to the Great Hall to have breakfast.

She saw that Ron had already arrived when they got down, and she was ready to ignore him, but Hermione had other plans - she marched over to where he was sitting and sat down. Amara followed grudgingly.

They started breakfast in silence.

"Still taking Harry's side?" Ron was the first to break the silence.

"Of course," said Amara at once. "Because I _obviously_ prefer him over you."

Ron scowled.

"Why aren't you with him then?"

Amara glared.

"Good point," she said and started loading toast into two napkins. "You coming too?" She said to Hermione.

"Um," Hermione said. "I - er - I said I'd meet up with Jesse today."

"Fine," Amara snapped, glaring at both of them. "I'll do it by myself."

She stalked out of the entrance hall.

"Amara?"

Amara turned and saw Ethan with his friends standing by the marble staircase.

"Are you alright?" Ethan said.

"M'Fine," Amara said.

"I was just wanting to tell you that we -" he indicated himself and the others "- want Harry to win just as much as Cedric."

Amara couldn't help it. She smiled widely and hugged her brother.

"Thanks E," she said. "And you guys too."

The second-years smiled at her.

"But be careful," said Piper. "Because the other Ravenclaws aren't very happy, neither are the Hufflepuffs."

Amara nodded. "Right," she said. "What are you guys doing today?"

"We're going to the library," said Flick. "We have this Charms project that Flitwick decided to do."

Amara laughed at how annoyed she looked and continued on her way. She got to the portrait hole just as it opened, and Harry conveniently came out. He looked stressed and miserable.

"Hey Harry," said Amara. She held up the toast she had got. "Want to have a walk and avoid the Great Hall forever?"

Harry cracked a smile and took the toast from her.

Amara and Harry walked back down to the entrance hall, each holding a stack of toast each. They walked out of the front doors without bothering to look into the Great Hall, which was alive with noise. As it was November, it was a chilly morning, which meant Amara was glad she'd worn her jacket. They ate the toast whilst walking around the grounds. Harry began to explain what had happened when he'd left the Great Hall.

"Everyone started getting annoyed about Hogwarts having two champions - Snape was intent on blaming me - and Dumbledore asked me whether I put my name in. I told him I hadn't and he accepted it. But then Moody said that no student could have done it and someone else must've done it. And then - and then they said I had to compete, because of the rules. The first task is on November twenty-fourth."

There was a pause whilst Amara digested the information.

"Wow," she said. "You really have to compete?"

Harry nodded.

"But why would someone put your name in? I knew you hadn't done it yourself, you would've told us," said Amara.

Harry looked away. Amara gazed at him for a moment, tilting her head.

"Moody … he said that someone could've done it because they wanted to see – er – see me killed," he said.

Amara gasped slightly.

"Oh Merlin!" she said. "That's awful! That's –"

"Have you seen Ron?" Harry asked her once she had fallen silent and thinking about how someone was trying to kill him. Amara frowned slightly.

"Yeah," she said. "He - er - was at breakfast."

"Does he still think I entered myself?"

"I don't know," said Amara. "I don't_ think_ so, but he had an awful way of showing it."

"What d'you mean?"

"Hermione says he's jealous," said Amara and Harry opened his mouth in outrage. "I know, stupid right? But you know how he has five brothers who all have done great stuff. He gets compared and has to compete with that. And with you being famous and all - I _know_ it's not your fault - but it automatically gets you more attention. I guess this is the last straw for him."

"Great," said Harry rather bitterly. "Tell him from me that I'd swap places with him anytime he wants."

"I can't," Amara cut him. "I'm rather pissed at him for not believing you and I don't think we are on speaking terms either."

"Maybe he'll believe me after I've got my neck broken," said Harry, looking away from her.

_"No!"_ Amara said, looking at him. "That's not funny, not funny at all."

"Sorry," he said. "Where's Hermione?"

"With Jesse," Amara sighed. "She'd be so much better at this than me."

"Nah," said Harry. "You're fine, at least you're sticking by me, right?"

Amara smiled slightly.

"You should write to Sirius," she said suddenly, the thought popping in her head. "He'll help, it'll be good to tell him."

"No it wouldn't," said Harry. "He'd come bursting into the castle ready to attack if I told him."

"Everyone will find out," Amara said firmly. "And if you don't, I certainly will."

"Fine," said Harry. "But I don't have anything to write with."

"I have my bag," said Amara. "And I need to write a letter anyways."

"Okay," said Harry and he threw his last bit of toast into the lake. They watched it in silence as it floated on top before one of the Giant Squid's tentacles rose up and snatched it downwards.

They brushed their hands and started the walk up to the Owlery.

"Did you really fall out with Ron too?" Harry said.

"Yeah," Amara sighed. "He was being stupid and not listening to reasoning."

"Right," said Harry. "Hermione believes me, doesn't she?"

"Of course," said Amara. "She just made plans with Jesse today." She rolled her eyes. "Bit selfish but there you go."

Once they entered the library, Amara handed Harry a piece of parchment and a quill before setting an ink bottle in the middle of them.

_Dear Tally_, she wrote.

_The Triwizard Champions were drawn last night. It's Viktor Krum from Durmstrang - you know the Quidditch player? Jesse's friend Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons and Cedric Diggory (he's a Hufflepuff) from Hogwarts. And someone else slipped Harry's name in to, our Defence teacher (Mad-Eye Moody, he's an ex-Auror and slightly mad) said they must've put his name down for a different school and tricked the Goblet of Fire into thinking there were four schools. So now Harry's competing too, which is terrifying because he's underage. And now Ron's stopped talking to us and Hermione's spending her time with Jesse. Great year, right?_

_Wish you were her to talk some sense,_

_Say hi to Noah for me,_

_Love from_

Amara

"Finished," she said just as Harry did the same. They got up and brushed straw off their clothes. He'd wig flew down onto Harry's shoulder with her leg out.

"I can't use you," Harry told her, looking around for the school owls. "I've got to use one of these."

"Don't worry Hedwig," Amara said, as Hedwig gave Harry a reproachful look. "You can send this one." Hedwig flew over to her shoulder so she could tie it on. Hedwig gave Harry a disgusted look.

"Take it to France, okay?" Amara said. Hedwig hooted once and took off through the window.

"You can use Archie," she said to Harry. Archimedes flew down from his perch immediately. He nipped Amara's ear before stick in his leg out for the letter.

"You have to find Sirius, okay?" Amara said to her owl. "Be safe."

Archie took off after Hedwig and disappeared into the sky.

-OOOOO-

It seemed that only Flick and Piper were the only two outside of Gryffindor house to still be on Harry's side in the next two weeks that followed.

The Hufflepuffs were furious with Harry about the fact that he just couldn't let them have the glory they never got. Amara couldn't blame them, really, but they didn't have to go to such lengths in being mean about it. They had all gone against the whole of Gryffindor house, not just Harry, which seemed to make it worse. Amara had always liked the Hufflepuffs, and she was rather disappointed to see even Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones acting cold towards them. Ernie MacMillan and Justin Finch-Fletchley did not talk to Harry nor Amara and Hermione in Herbology the next day, but they did laugh when a Bouncing Bulb escaped Harry's grip and smacked him in the face. Amara, rather irritated accidently let her bouncing bulbs hit them in the face, and unfortunately Professor Sprout saw and knocked twenty-five points off Gryffindor for it. She didn't care, because Justin and Ernie moved away from them after that. Ron was not speaking to Amara and even less so to Harry, so Hermione sat in between them, forcing them to have a conversation. Amara talked to Ron on occasion, but forcefully and not looking at him in the eye.

What made things worse was that in the next lesson, Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid told them that the reason that the skrewts had been killing each other was that because they had lots of energy. He went on to say the class had to tie leads around them and take them for a walk around the grounds. It distracted Malfoy, however, which was the only good thing because he was making horrible remarks to Harry.

"Take this thing for a walk?" he repeated in disgust, staring into one of the boxes. "And where exactly are we supposed to fix the lead? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er - yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Harry - you come here an' help me with this big one..."

Amara set off with her Skrewt gingerly, for it seemed very angry about having a lead around its middle. It kept jutting forwards, so instead of Amara walking it, the Skrewt was walking her.

Every now and again the Skrewt who jut forwards with a bang and emit sparks. This meant that most of Amara's classmates were now being dragged along the floor. She herself was digging her feet into the ground to try and stop her Skrewt from knocking her over. It wasn't what she called a great lesson.

The Ravenclaws, it seemed, had taken Hufflepuff's side. It was annoying, because they thought Harry had tricked the Goblet for more fame. In Ancient Runes, Amara found that even Terry Boot was a bit chilly towards her, ready to tell her exactly how _he _thought Harry did it.

"He didn't put his name in," Amara finally said irritably.

"How did it come out then?" Terry said.

"Considering you've just been yapping about how he definitely did and getting on my nerves, I don't think I'm going to tell you," she snapped and Terry looked a little ashamed of himself.

"I forgot you were friends," he said. "Do you really believe him?"

"Yes," said Amara instantly. "You should have seen his face when he got called."

"Right," said Terry sceptically. After the lesson she saw him whispering with his friend Anthony Goldstein, obviously debating about what Amara said was true.

The Slytherins had decided to be even worse to Harry as well. They always threw vicious comments at him and Amara had to refrain herself from jumping on them. Amara realised that she had really taken Ron as a friend for granted. She couldn't believe how much she missed him after just a few days, but then again, she was still annoyed at him and every time she saw him a spark of anger shot into her stomach. Hermione spent most of her time with Jesse now, sitting with them in the common room and also in the library to make them do homework. Amara and Harry spent most of their time together now, and it wasn't _bad, _for they still had jokes and laughed a lot. But some of them fell rather flat without Ron and Hermione always told them off for giggling in the library. And Harry was constantly rather irritated by everything and everyone.

Cedric was getting a lot of attention nowadays, everyone was talking about him and all the girls were gossiping and wanting autographs. The group of girls that they had seen squabbling over lipstick for an autograph from Viktor Krum were now begging Cedric to sign their bags. Amara thought this was pathetic, but couldn't help but notice how attractive he was – brown hair and deep grey eyes. But Amara couldn't stand the groups of girls that surrounded him constantly.

"Hey! Hey! Wait a minute Matthews!"

Amara turned and saw that Cedric Diggory was running towards her.

"You dropped your book," he said, when Amara stopped walking and had waited for him to catch up. He held out _A Standard Book of Spells: Grade Four _out to her_._

"Oh!" Amara said and she grinned, trying not to flush at the proximity of Cedric. "That's why my bag was so light."

Cedric cracked a smile.

"It's Amara, right?" He asked and Amara nodded.

"Where are you off to?" He asked as they began a slow walk simultaneously.

"Uh, Transfiguration," said Amara. "You?"

"Arithmancy," said Cedric. "Mind if I walk you?"

"I -" Amara didn't know what to say. _Cedric Diggory_, one of the most popular and handsome boys in the school wanted to walk with _her?_ "OK, cool."

"Great," Cedric grinned. "So how is you year going?"

"Alright," said Amara. "Bit weird with all the other schools here. I mean, I do like my cousin being here (he does hang around with Hermione though) but still, it's odd."

"I guess so," said Cedric. "Is you cousin seeing Hermione?"

"Sort of," sighed Amara, looking at the cover of her book. "I guess so."

"What's wrong with that?"

Amara looked at him and saw he actually looked concerned.

"It's just, well, you know, Ron's not speaking to Harry and Hermione's spending time with Jesse and Harry just gets irritated all the time because of the tournament."

"Sounds hard work," said Cedric and Amara smiled. "You can hang with me if you want." He seemed to flush slightly.

"Really?" Amara said.

"Yeah, like if there's a subject you need help in, and stuff," he finished rather lamely.

"Thanks," said Amara. "But you're going the wrong way - Arithmancy's the other end of the corridor."

Cedric really did flush this time.

"Oh, yes!" He said. "Sorry, I'd better go, see you soon!" He hurried off along the corridor and Amara giggled. She turned around, ready to go to Transfiguration, but saw a very angry looking Cho Chang glaring at her from down the hall.

Not wanting to get into anything, Amara decided to take the long way to Transfiguration.

-OOOOO-

Harry was definitely having a hard time. He told Amara that he had had no reply from Sirius and Professor Trelawney was predicting his death every lesson. As well as this, he did so badly at summoning charms he was given extra homework.

"It's fine Harry," Amara told him as he, Amara and Hermione left the classroom. Amara had found the charm easy and had been racing things along the classroom with Hermione (who was trying not to look like she was enjoying herself). "You just weren't concentrating properly -" Hermione began.

"Wonder why that was," said Harry darkly as Cedric Diggory walked past, surrounded by a large group of simpering girls, all of whom looked at Harry as though he were a particularly large Blast-Ended Skrewt. Cedric smiled at Amara and the girls gave her a death glare. She had met up with Cedric in the library so he could help her with her Astronomy essay and she had found he was a very nice guy. They had talked for ages and only left when Madam Pince kicked them out. Amara had noted the annoyed look on Cho's face as they left and she felt a little guilty, for she had begun to think Cho likes Cedric. "Still - never mind, eh? Double Potions to look forward to this afternoon. . ."

Amara groaned. She hated double potions with the Slytherins. It was almost as though they wanted to torture them on a Friday afternoon. But Harry got it worse - Snape and the Slytherins were ten times more horrible than normal, probably because Dumbledore 'let him' become champion. Last Friday Hermione had been chanting under her breath the majority of the lesson so that Harry wouldn't fight back.

Once arriving at the dungeons after a rather dreary lunch (Amara and Harry had spent most of it deciding what torturous thing Snape could make them do) they discovered that the Slytherins all had large badges on the front of their robes or on their bags. They had luminous red letters on them reading:

_SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY - THE _REAL_ HOGWARTS CHAMPION!_

"Like them, Potter?" said Malfoy loudly as they all approached. "And this isn't all they do - look!"

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

_POTTER STINKS!_

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message POTTER STINKS was shining brightly all around Harry.

"Oh very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to Pansy Parkinson and her gang of Slytherin girls, who were laughing harder than anyone, "really witty."

"How _hilarious_," Amara said. "It must've taken all your brain power to come up with those hilarious words."

Malfoy seemed to ignore her words and addressed Hermione instead.

"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge to Hermione. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it, you see; don't want a Mudblood sliming it up."

Amara scowled before holding her wand inside her robes. Harry had already whipped his own wand out and was facing Malfoy with an angry look. People moved out of the way to let them fight. Amara saw Ron standing by the wall with Seamus and Dean. She glared at him - one, for not sticking up for Harry or Hermione and two, for all the other things he had done.

"Harry!" Hermione said warningly.

"Go on, then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, drawing out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now - do it, if you've got the guts -"

For a split second, they looked into each other's eyes, then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

"_Funnunculus!"_ Harry yelled.

_"Densaugeo!"_ screamed Malfoy.

Jets of light shot from both wands, hit each other in mid-air, and ricocheted off at angles - Harry's hit Goyle in the face, and Amara ducked quickly so that she wouldn't get hit, but realised too late that Hermione was behind her. Goyle bellowed in pain as great ugly boils sprang up on his face, but Hermione was clutching her mouth and whimpering in panic.

_"Hermione!" _Amara said, running towards her. Ron hurried forward too but Amara pushed him away to let Harry in. With difficulty, Amara managed to drag her hand away from her mouth. Hermione's teeth were growing at a rapid pace, they were already down to her chin. Amara and Harry looked at each other in horror as they kept going past her collar. Hermione felt them and let out another whimper.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a soft, deadly voice. Snape had arrived. The Slytherins clamoured to give their explanations; Snape pointed a long yellow finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir -"

"We attacked each other at the same time!" Harry shouted.

"- and he hit Goyle - look -"

Snape examined Goyle, whose face now resembled something that would have been at home in a book on poisonous fungi.

"Hospital wing, Goyle," Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione too!" Amara said loudly. "_Look!"_

She gestured to Hermione's teeth, which she was trying to cover with her hands, but failing greatly. She now looked like a beaver. Amara glared furiously at Pansy Parkinson and her other horrible friends, all of them doubled up with laughter. They were doing it behind Snape's back, but even if they hadn't, Amara supposed he wouldn't have told them off.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper; her eyes filled with tears, she turned on her heel and ran, ran all the way up the corridor and out of sight. Amara opened her mouth in outrage, ready to run after her.

"If you think about running after her you'll be in for a month's detentions, Matthews," Snape said.

Amara's temper then reached breaking point, for she started yelling all the things she had ever wanted to say at Snape. It was lucky that Ron and Harry started doing the same thing because it echoed so loudly in the dungeon that the words got mixed together. Unfortunately Snape was not stupid and got the gist of exactly what they were saying.

"Let's see," he said, in his silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor and a detention each for Potter, Matthews and Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detentions."

Amara was fuming when she stomped into the classroom and slammed her bag down at the back with Harry. Ron paused before going off with Dean and Seamus, which did not helped with Amara's mood.

"Antidotes!" said Snape, looking around at them all, his cold black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one. . ."

For most of the lesson Amara spent it by mashing up beetle eyes whilst pretending them to be Snape and getting quite into it. Once all her anger had escaped her she settled down to focus more, adding billywig stings to her beetle eyes and stirring in some bat blood. Harry didn't seem to be doing much, instead, he was looking as though he was thinking of ways to torture Snape.

When there was still an hour to go with Potions, the door banged open and Colin Creevey stood at the door. He beamed at Harry before walking up to Snape's desk. Everyone paused to watch.

"Yes?" said Snape curtly.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs."

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, whose smile faded from his eager face.

"Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," said Snape coldly. "He will come upstairs when this class is finished."

Colin went pink.

"Sir - sir, Mr Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs. . ."

Amara winced. She took a glance at Ron who was now looking at the ceiling before looking at Harry, who looked as though he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. Amara couldn't blame him, it did not help him at all in the situation.

"Very well, very well," Snape snapped. "Potter, leave your things here, I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please, sir - he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Colin. "All the champions..."

"Very _well!"_ barked Snape. "Potter - take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Harry swung his bag over his shoulder, got up, and headed for the door.

Amara watched him leave. She looked back and found herself feeling rather lonely now. She shook this off and carried on with her antidote, which was now billowing out yellow steam. She switched off the heat and stirred in some more bat blood until it got to the right colour again. Neville was having trouble too - his cauldron was emitting bright green sparks that he was trying to stop.

In the end, Snape didn't test the antidotes on a person (he looked rather sour) and they all had to bottle it up so he could test it himself. Before they left, he called Ron and Amara to stay behind.

"Your detentions are tomorrow night, this dungeon, eight o'clock sharp," said Snape. "Make sure you tell Potter."

Amara started the walk to the Great Hall by herself, wondering where Hermione and Harry were. Before she had crossed the entrance hall, Cedric popped out in front of her.

"Hello," he said and Amara blinked.

"Oh - hello Cedric," said Amara.

"Do you want to meet up tonight? I mean -" he rubbed his neck. "You don't have too ... Er -"

"OK," said Amara, smiling.

"Really?" Cedric beamed. "I'll meet you in the entrance hall after dinner, shall I?"

Amara smiled and nodded. When she went into the Great Hall she found that neither Harry nor Hermione were there - Ron was sat further down the table. Not five minutes into her meal (and reading her Transfiguration book) Harry sat down opposite her.

Amara looked up to see Harry's face.

"How were the _photographs," _Amara smirked.

"Shut up," said Harry. "I met Rita Skeeter too."

"Who? Oh, that horrible person from the paper?" Amara said. "Why was she there?"

"She asked a few questions," said Harry. "In a broom cupboard.

"A broom cupboard?" Amara snorted. "Classy."

"Is Hermione still in the Hospital Wing?" Harry asked.

"Guess so," said Amara, shrugging. "I hope she's OK."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Are you going to the common room?"

"Erm, no," said Amara. "Sorry, but – er – I agreed to meet Cedric tonight."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Cedric _Diggory?_"

"Yes," said Amara anxiously. "Is that alright? I don't have to –"

"No! No it's fine," said Harry. "I'm glad you two are friends. Does he still believe I put my name in?"

"We haven't discussed it actually," said Amara. "I've only met up with him once. I don't plan to gossip about you to him."

Harry grinned. "I feel honoured."

"That you should," said Amara, nodding. "Finished? We can walk to the entrance hall if you want."

Harry nodded and they got up from the Gryffindor table together. They walked out and saw that Cedric was already waiting for her at the edge of the entrance hall.

"Hello," said Amara.

"Hello Cedric," said Harry.

"Oh, hello Harry," Cedric said. "Are you joining us?"

Amara looked at Harry, smiling.

"Really?" Harry looked unsure.

"Of course," said Cedric.

"Maybe next time," said Harry. "Nice speaking to you, anyways."

Amara waved as he started up the marble staircase.

"Did you really want him to join us?" said Amara.

"Yeah," said Cedric. "I wouldn't have said otherwise, would I? It would have been nice to talk to him, what with everything going on."

"You are such a Hufflepuff," Amara laughed as they started the walk to the library.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Cedric said indignantly.

"Only Hufflepuffs would think someone asks someone to do something only because they want to," said Amara. "Sometimes it's just polite, you know?"

"You are _such _a Gryffindor," mimicked Cedric.

"Shut up!" Amara laughed. "What are we meeting for again?"

"Er, well, do you have any essays?" said Cedric. "Otherwise, um, we could go for a walk, you know, it's before curfew."

"Let's take a walk," Amara decided. "I am _not _doing my History of Magic essay."

"Okay," said Cedric. "But that's not really the attitude, is it?" they walked back down the stairs and started walking down a corridor.

"Did _you _pass your History of Magic O.W.L," said Amara.

Cedric frowned.

"Yes," he said.

"What?" Amara said, stopping.

"Just joking," said Cedric, grinning. "I got a 'P'."

"I'm guessing that's bad," said Amara.

"Why? Don't you know?"

"I'm Muggle-born," said Amara.

"Oh right," said Cedric. "So, anything exciting happen for you?"

"Not really," said Amara. "Hermione got put in the hospital wing, stray curse from Malfoy."

"Why was Malfoy firing curses?" said Cedric.

"He annoyed Harry," said Amara. "And, well, we all got detention."

"Why did you get detention?"

"I yelled some stuff," said Amara sheepishly. "Um, how's life for you?"

"Weird," said Cedric. "Everyone follows me around all the time."

"That's 'cause you're _school champion," _said Amara.

"So is Harry," said Cedric.

"No one likes Harry at the moment," said Amara. "Do you think he put his name in the Goblet?"

"Well," said Cedric. "I – er – how else would he have got in?"

"Someone else," sighed Amara. "Don't worry you can –"

"Students out of bed!"

Amara and Cedric turned to see Argus Filch limping towards them.

"What are you on about?" Amara said.

Filch looked very excited. "Students out of bed after curfew!"

"Er –" Cedric looked at Amara. "It's only half past six."

"Don't lie to me!" spluttered Filch. "It's half past nine!"

Amara and Cedric looked at each other and then checked their watches.

"It's six thirty," said Cedric. "And even if it _was, _I'm a prefect, and I am allowing Amara to be out."

Filch glared at them, before looking at his watch. He then started cursing under his breath.

"Stupid watch … alright _fine, _I'll let you off," Filch snapped, his face going purple. Once he'd shuffled away, Amara started giggling.

"Don't," said Cedric. "You'll make me laugh too."

All in all, Amara decided it wasn't a bad end to the day.


	19. The Forbidden Forest Again

A/N _**Sorry for the delay! And I have exams next week so I don't know when I'll update next :( Anyway, enjoy and as always R&R (thanks to all the reviews in the last chapters :)) xxx**_

**_Chapter Nineteen_**

**_The Forbidden Forest Again_**

The next day wasn't as good. It had started rather positive, what with Hermione telling Amara she'd had her teeth shrunk to a normal person's size, which looked very good on her, and Harry informing them that Sirius wrote him a letter telling him to be at Gryffindor Tower at one am on November twenty-second.

They spent the time getting down to breakfast to think of how they would get the remaining stragglers out of the common room if they were still there by one o'clock. Amara doubted they would be, but Hermione said they had to had a plan even if it was just for precaution. So they decided that if they couldn't coax the Gryffindors out Amara would accidentally set off some dungbombs, which she didn't want to do because Filch was still in a bad mood with her.

When they had finally gotten down to breakfast, it was there where they found the source of misery.

Just as Amara sat down, Piper McKenzie and Flick Cartright hurried over from the Ravenclaw table.

"We thought you might like to see this," they said before thrusting a copy of the Daily Prophet under Amara and Harry's noses. One flash of Harry's face on the front cover made Amara's stomach drop. "It came this morning."

"We thought it be better if you found out yourselves," added Flick.

"We've got to go though, we've forgotten to do our History of Magic essay, and it's due today," said Piper.

"Thanks," said Amara and the two second-years hurried off. Amara cautiously unrolled the paper and let out a groan.

"What's the matter?" said Hermione. "Read it!"

_'__RITA SKEETER INTERVIEWS HARRY POTTER_

_Yesterday afternoon, beloved writer from the _Daily Prophet, _Rita Skeeter, interviewed the one and only, Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter. Recently, he has been drawn out of the Goblet of Fire to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, which is being held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. Eventhough he is under the age limit and still allowed to compete, he seemed reluctant to spill how he managed to fool the Goblet. He admitted he was nervous about the tasks ahead …'_

"Eurgh," said Amara. "This is utter _rubbish … _

_' "__I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I know they'd be very proud of me if they could see me now. . . . Yes, sometimes at night I still cry about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it. . . . I know nothing will hurt me during the tournament, because they're watching over me. . . ."'_

Harry put his head in his hands. "Is that it?"

"No," said Amara. "It gets worse." Harry let out a muffled groan.

_'__Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. "I've never seen a day when Harry and Amara are not seen together," says Colin Creevey, a close friend of Harry's. He late informs me that the girl mentioned is Amara Matthews, an astonishingly pretty Muggle-born girl who, along with Harry, is one of the top students in their year.'_

Amara flipped the paper downwards to see Hermione and Harry.

"This is going to be _hell," _she said.

"And look - _Viktor Crumb and Fleur Delcor are the two champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, competing against Harry ..._ It hasn't even mentioned Cedric either!"

The next ten days were the worst for Harry and Amara. The amount of ridicule they got concerning their love for each other was annoying and constantly thrown at them. Harry was getting the worst of it, but Amara was getting some as well.

_"One of the top students in the year?"_ Pansy Parkinson shrieked the day the article came out. "What planet are you on Matthews?"

Comments like these made Amara want to punch them in the face, but she refrained from doing so and instead accidentally dropped beetle eyes in her potion so that it went wrong. Snape was very annoyed with her even though Pansy protested that everything she had done was right.

The trouble was, was that the day the article came out was the same day as their detention with Ron and Snape. Amara and Harry had decided to try and reconcile with him during the two hours they did torturous jobs but the article had cemented Ron's belief that Harry loved all the glory.

Amara had complained to Cedric one evening when they were practising Transfiguration (they saw each other quite a lot) and he told her he didn't care. But then a random fifth year Slytherin remarked that Amara was 'cheating' on Harry and Amara got annoyed again.

Hermione was furious with Amara, Ron and Harry. When she wasn't spending time with Jesse (probably complaining there) she went to and fro trying to make them talk together again. Amara wanted to talk to him, she really did, because she felt bad about it, but if Ron didn't want to talk first, she wasn't going to start it.

"I didn't start this," Harry said stubbornly. "It's his problem."

"He's the one who brought it one," added Amara.

"You miss him!" Hermione said impatiently. "And I_ know _he misses both of you -"

_"Miss him?"_ said Harry. "We don't _miss him_. . .

Both of them were lying of course. It wasn't the same with only three of them. The jokes weren't as fun, but at least she had Harry to make her laugh. Without him, she'd be stuck in the library with Hermione otherwise. The only trouble was, because Harry hadn't mastered the summoning charm yet, Hermione said that learning the theory would help, and she ignored Amara's rejections to this idea. So they spend lunchtimes in the library - Amara doing homework and making Harry laugh, and Harry and Hermione reading the theory. Amara only agreed to stay in the library because it was too cold to go outside.

Jesse sometimes joined them on these lunchtimes in the library, so that Harry got a break from constant theory-reading because Hermione got very distracted. Amara didn't really want to know what they got up to when they were alone, but she knew that Jesse and Hermione were now officially a 'thing' because Hermione had come back blushing and grinning one day after a trip to the library.

Harry wasn't the only champion in the library either. On days when Jesse wasn't there, Viktor Krum seemed to be studying a hell of a lot too. It was rather annoying too, because he was constantly followed by a gang of giggly girls that hid behind shelves in the section Amara always needed. Hermione complained about the noise as well.

"He's not even good-looking!" she muttered angrily, glaring at Krum's sharp profile. "They only like him because he's famous! They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky Faint thing -"

"Wronski Feint," said Harry, through gritted teeth. Amara snorted slightly, but from the look of pain on Harry's face (Amara liked to call it his Ron-face) she stopped and cleared her throat, trying not to break out unstoppable giggles.

-OOOOO-

There was something else to excite the third years and above now - the first Hogsmeade trip was on the Saturday before the first task. Amara was looking forward to it because she needed to stock up on a few things (Honeydukes produce mainly) and she needed a break from the castle. There were always nasty comments from the article that Amara was fed up with.

Amara and Hermione didn't need to do much persuasion to get Harry to come too. It was only after he agreed that he voiced whether Hermione was seeing Jesse.

"Well," she said, a faint blush noticeable on her cheeks whenever the boy in question was mentioned. "I think we're meeting up with him and one of his friends in the Three Broomsticks."

"What about Ron?"

"Well he might be in the Three Broomsticks too …"

"No," said Amara, "_You _can speak to him, _we're _not."

"Oh come on, this is _so _stupid," said Hermione.

"No," said Harry. "I'm wearing my Invisibility Cloak."

"Wish I could join you," said Amara.

"I hate it when he wears the cloak," said Hermione as Harry went off upstairs. "And I thought that you and Cedric were probably going together."

"No," said Amara. "He's going with friends."

"What's going on between you two? You spend a lot of time together," said Hermione, looking curious.

"We're _friends," _said Amara. "And he gives me a little break, okay? From Ron and stuff. I've spoken to Harry and he's fine."

"Are you _sure _he's interested in being more tha –"

"Got it, let's go!" Harry's voice saved the day as he appeared at the foot of the Boys' staircase.

"Let's go!" Amara said hastily. Harry threw on the cloak and the three of them headed out of the portrait hole.

It was a nice break, really, walking down the corridors with Harry but having no comments thrown at them. Amara enjoyed it immensely, basking in the fact that nobody could be bothered to throw anything at her.

They made it down to the village in relatively good time. Filch had checked them off by the door (commenting on the absence of Harry, but Amara said he wasn't feeling well) and the walk from the castle was rather jolly, with Harry making jokes from under the cloak, and everyone looking at them weirdly for laughing at nothing. There was a frost in the air as they walked down in the weak November sun that was filtering through the clouds. There were many _Support Cedric Diggory! _badges around, which Cedric told Amara he hated with a passion, because he had nothing against Harry.

"Where to first?" said Harry once they got into the village.

"Three Broomsticks?" said Hermione.

"Bugger off," said Amara. "_I'm _not going anywhere without my Chocoballs."

"Honeydukes then?" Harry said with a laugh and the three friends went into the crowded sweet shop. Harry passed money to Hermione and Amara to buy him and Hermione some cream-filled chocolates, but Amara stuck with her favourites: large chocolate sweets full with strawberry-mousse and clotted cream.

"People keep looking at us," said Hermione grumpily as they came out of Honeydukes Sweetshop later, eating large cream-filled chocolates. "They think we're laughing at nothing."

"Don't laugh so much then." Was Harry's delightful reply.

"Come on, please just take off your cloak for a bit, no one's going to bother you here."

"Oh yeah?" said Harry. "Look behind you."

Amara turned around and saw a woman with lavish curly blonde hair and awfully long 2-inch talon nails painted a bright crimson, complete with a crocodile-skin handbag. She wore expensive robes and had rhinestone embedded glasses. Her eyebrows were heavily pencilled, looking odd against her curls and her boyish face and hands. Amara guessed this was Rita Skeeter, the woman behind the _Daily Prophet _articles. With her seemed to be her friend, a man, paunchy looking and with wispy brown hair, holding a large black camera case. They passed the trio without looking at them, and Amara realised Rita wrote about her without even knowing who she was.

"She's staying in the village," said Harry once they'd disappeared. "I bet she's coming to watch the first task."

Amara swallowed down the lump in her throat. The first task was on Tuesday and Harry did not know what he was doing.

"She's gone," said Hermione, looking toward the end of the street where Rita and her photographer friend had disappeared. "Why don't we go and have a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, it's a bit cold, isn't it? You don't have to talk to Ron!" she added irritably, correctly interpreting the silence both Amara and Harry held.

As usual, and because of the cold weather outside, the Three Broomsticks was packed with people – Hogwarts students and different witches and wizards alike. Hags and other weird creatures were in there too, because the village was the only place they could really be themselves, except in Diagon Alley. Amara didn't like hags though, apparently they ate children.

Amara and Harry went to sit down at a rare empty table in a corner of the pub as Hermione went to go get drinks. Amara noticed that Ron was sitting with Fred, George and Lee at a table. Amara waved to the three older boys, who all waved jovially back at her. Ron, however, avoided any eye contact. Fred and George looked slightly irritated before going back to their conversation with Lee.

Amara bumped into the still-Invisible Harry, who was walking in front of her.

"Hurry up," she hissed at him.

"Sorry," he said. Amara looked around before raising her arms slightly to check that Harry had indeed moved forwards.

"You here?" she whispered as she sat down at the spare table.

"Yes," said Harry.

Hermione joined them again with three mugs of butterbeer, Jesse and Adrien Page.

"Hello," said Amara, smiling.

"Bonjour again Amara," said Adrien, his English accent better than it had been the last time they had met. "I am 'oping you are well?"

"Yes thanks," said Amara. "And you? And Adeline?"

"We are all very well, thank you," said Adrien. "Adeline eez veery upset zat she cannot come for zis year."

"So would I," said Amara. "How's Beauxbatons?"

"Veery well," said Adrien as Hermione and Jesse started a conversation too. Amara felt bad for Harry. "Examens, cependant, make things less so."

"Yes," said Amara. "What exams are you taking?"

"My S. ," said Adrien. "_Superieur Evalue Essais."_

"H. for you," Jesse added. "Higher Assessed Tests. We did our L. last year, Lower Assessed Tests (F. – _Faible Evalue Essais)." _

"Did you all do well?" said Amara.

"Jesse got top marks," said Adrien. "But zis test eez 'arder."

This made the conversation turn to Hermione style talk, which Adrien seemed to get bored of too, so he turned back to Amara.

"Excited for Tuesday?" he asked.

"Oh yes," lied Amara. "It'll be fun."

"Yes," said Adrien. "Do _you _know why 'Ogwarts 'as two champions?"

Amara paused slightly. "No," she said carefully. "It was an accident, you see, never meant to happen, came as a big, horrible shock."

"Yes, Jesse told me as much," said Adrien thoughtfully. "But aren't you a good friend of 'Arry Potter?"

"Yes," said Amara.

"Why isn't 'e with you now then?" said Adrien. "Not meaning to be rude."

"Oh, he's not feeling to good," lied Amara. "He stayed in the dormitory."

"Ah," said Adrien, nodding understandingly. "Nerves, Fleur eez getting them also."

"Did she not come out either?"

"Oh yes, she wanted to see zis ville, but she eez wiz Celeste," said Adrien.

"Who's Celeste?"

"My girlfriend," said Adrien. "Of three years."

"Congratulations," smiled Amara. She couldn't remember Adrien ever mentioning her on her last visit, except from him dispersing to be with a girl with short cropped black hair in the café they went to. Maybe Fleur had been there too. Jesse and Hermione had now enticed Adrien into the conversation. Amara was pleased at how well Jesse and Hermione were doing (Lavender and Parvati had already drawn it out of them for not telling them sooner). Looking around the pub, Amara saw a few Hufflepuffs she knew (all supporting the horrible badges) and her other classmates. Then, she saw a familiar shaggy black mane of hair emerge from the crowds.

"Look, it's Hagrid!" said Amara.

Hagrid had got rid of his bunches and he was talking to Professor Moody by the bar. Professor Moody, instead of drinking from a tankard like Hagrid was, was sticking to his hip flask. Professor Moody had told them that he always drank from a hip flask in case someone had poisoned his cup, and Madam Rosmerta, the barmaid all the boys liked, had obviously not been privy to this information, because she was giving him dirty looks.

Amara went back to the conversation that was happening, but when she looked up, the two teachers were walking over.

"Hello Amara," said Hagrid, for Hermione, Jesse and Adrien were now deeply absorbed in their conversation, which Amara found out to be S.P.E.W. Both boys seemed very interested in what she had to say.

Moody limped around the table and bent down; Amara thought he was going to hit her until he muttered, "Nice cloak, Potter."

Amara glanced at Professor Moody in surprise. Obviously his magical eye could see into Invisibility Cloaks. Moody grinned his horrible smile.

"Can your eye - I mean, can you - ?" Harry's voice was heard.

"Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks," Moody said quietly. "And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."

Hagrid was beaming down at where Harry was sitting too. He bent down, looking as though he was about to start a conversation with Amara but instead said: "Harry, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin. Wear that cloak."

Straightening up, Hagrid said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, Amara," winked, and departed. Moody followed him.

"Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?" Harry said, very surprised.

"I don't know," said Amara quietly, glancing at Hermione, Jesse and Adrien to check they were still in their conversation. "At midnight too? Hagrid's never asked you to come so late at night. Doesn't he think about what happens if you're caught?"

"I have my cloak," said Harry. "Hagrid told me to use it."

"Wish I could come too," said Amara. "I want to know what's going on – and this could make you late for Sirius, it only leaves you a small amount of time!"

"Oh yeah," said Harry slowly. "Maybe you could go instead of me! Then I won't be late …"

"No," said Amara firmly. "Hagrid asked you, I can't just turn up."

"Fine," said Harry. "You can still come with me though, you're small, you can fit under the cloak with ease, I won't notice you're there."

Amara whacked him light-heartedly.

-OOOOO-

Hermione was less than impressed when Amara and Harry informed her of what Hagrid had asked of Harry and even more annoyed when Amara said she was going too.

"Hagrid didn't ask for you," she said. Amara guessed she was peeved that she wasn't invited too.

"Hagrid doesn't have to know I'm there," said Amara. "I want to know what all the fuss is about – if you want to go too, you only have to ask."

Hermione didn't answer, but Harry jumped in too.

"Don't invite Jesse or anything, this isn't a group outing."

Amara laughed but Hermione looked sour. "I just don't think Amara should go too, and you could be late for Sirius."

"You can keep him company," said Amara. "I'm going, Harry's said so."

Hermione scowled but said no more.

Amara and Harry's plan was for Amara, at half past eleven, to slip out the portrait hole and hide until Harry came out wearing the Invisibility Cloak. They had intended to go up to his dormitory, but Hermione pointed it out it would look dodgy, so they decided swiftly against that idea. Harry pretended to go up to bed early and Amara got up too (Hermione was busy with her S.P.E.W notebook – Jesse and Adrien, now keen members, had given her a fair few ideas) and walked slyly through to the exit. The Creevey brothers sat by the door, trying and failing to change _'Support Cedric Diggory!' _into _'Support Harry Potter!' _instead, but all they had done was fix it on '_POTTER STINKS'. _Trying not to laugh at their concentrated faces, Amara slipped out of the portrait hole. Luckily the Fat Lady was dozing and did not figure anything out. Amara hid behind a suit of armour and waited about thirty seconds before she opened it again for Harry, shoving Crookshanks through the door so that it looked as though it had opened for him.

The walk through the castle was silent and normal, and there was no real need for the Invisibility Cloak, as they saw nor heard anything or anyone. The grounds, once outside, were pitch black and the only reason Harry and Amara knew where they were going was because of the lights filtering out of Hagrid's cabin. The carriage near it was lit up too, and Madame Maxime's booming voice was heard inside, seemingly given a lesson to her students. Amara guessed it was charms, as there were appreciative claps from the students inside. Harry knocked on Hagrid's door quietly.

"You there, Harry?" Hagrid whispered, opening the door and looking around.

"Yeah," said Harry, slipping inside the cabin and pulling the cloak down off his head. Amara tried to stay silent too, but Fang had popped in and bumped into her leg in the attempt to get to Harry. Amara cursed as she fell into the unfortunate boy and both of them fell over.

"_Ouch."_

"Amara?" Hagrid said. "I didn' realise you were commin too."

"Sorry," said Amara. "I was curious."

"What's up Hagrid?" said Harry.

"Got summat ter show yeh," said Hagrid, helping Amara to her feet.

Hagrid was looking very excited – he had a flower of some sort in his buttonhole and his hair was slightly flatter, as he seemed to have tried to comb it but broke the brush instead.

"What're you showing me?" Harry said warily, and Amara couldn't blame him.

"Come with me, keep quiet, an' keep yerself covered with that cloak, both of yer," said Hagrid. "We won' take Fang, he won' like it. . . ."

"Listen, Hagrid, I can't stay long. . . . I've got to be back up at the castle by one o'clock —"

But Hagrid wasn't listening; he was opening the cabin door and striding off into the night. Amara and Harry hurried to follow and found, to their great surprise, that Hagrid was leading them to the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Hagrid, what — ?"

_"__Shhh!"_ said Hagrid, and he knocked three times on the door bearing the crossed golden wands.

Madame Maxime opened it. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid.

"Ah, 'Agrid . . . it is time?"

"Bong-sewer," said Hagrid, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps. Amara tried not to snort at how awful Hagrid was at French. _Bong-sewer? _

Madame Maxime closed the carriage door behind her, the voices dimming, and she took Hagrid's proffered arm, setting off around the paddock containing the ridiculously large horses that pulled the carriages.

Amara and Harry had to run to keep up with their large strides. They glanced at each other, very puzzled. Why was Madame Maxime with her?

"Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?" she said after a while.

"Yeh'll enjoy this," said Hagrid gruffly, "worth seein', trust me. On'y — don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know."

"Of course not," said Madame Maxime, fluttering her long black eyelashes.

It was actually rather disturbing and disgusting walking after the two gigantic forms. Amara and Harry looked very repulsed, both of them thinking why on earth they decided to come, and Amara trying not to laugh at the image of Harry experiencing it on his own.

They walked for a long time – the castle and the lake had disappeared before they had reached their destination. There were noises of men shouting up ahead and an earsplitting roar that made Amara clutch Harry's arm in fright. What was that?

They walked around a clump of trees and Amara did a squeak only Harry heard.

_Dragons. Dragons. Dragons. _

Four of them, vicious, angry and enclosed in a fenced off area, spitting, roaring and snorting, shooting fire into the sky. Fifty feet above the ground, fanged mouths and bright yellow eyes. There was a pretty, silvery-blue one that Amara liked the colours of, but it had long pointed horns and it was snapping and snarling at the wizards trying to control it. Next to the first dragon was a smooth, green one that was stomping its huge feet impatiently; a fiery red on with golden spikes pointing out of the fringe was shooting puffs of mushroom-shaped fire into the sky. The worst on was a gigantic black one, which looked like a huge lizard, looking the most furious, and it was nearest to them. On each dragon there were eight wizards – about thirty in total, trying to control them into their fenced areas. They pulled on chains that were connected on leather straps. Amara couldn't believe that four fully grown dragons were _at Hogwarts. _If they escaped they could easily kill everyone. It was ridiculous and dangerous and Amara knew they were for the first task. This made Amara's heart drop.

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard with a familiar voice near the fence, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

"Is'n' it beautiful?" said Hagrid softly.

"It's no good!" yelled another wizard. "Stunning Spells, on the count of three!"

They saw each of the dragon keepers pull out his wand.

_"__Stupefy!"_ they shouted in unison, and the Stunning Spells shot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly hides —

They watched in interest the dragon nearest to them teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking — then, very slowly, it fell. Several tons of sinewy, scaly-black dragon hit the ground with a thud that made the trees behind them all quake, as though in fear.

The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and Amara and Harry followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and Amara realised why she thought his voice sounded familiar. It was Charlie Weasley. Amara was just about to open her mouth to say hello when she realised she was under the Invisibility Cloak and shouldn't be there.

"All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be okay now — we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet — but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all —"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" said Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something close to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. There was a gleam of yellow penetrating through the horribly wrinkled black eyelid.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there" - he pointed at the green one – "the smaller one — a Swedish Short- Snout, that blue-grey — and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red."

Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming — she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"

Amara forgot about that. So Fleur and Harry would know what was coming to them on Tuesday. What about Cedric and Viktor Krum?

"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Hagrid," said Charlie, shaking his head.

"Four . . ." said Hagrid, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do — fight 'em?"

_Fight them? _Amara panicked.

"Just get past them, I think," said Charlie and Amara breathed a sigh of relief. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why . . . but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look."

Charlie pointed toward the Horntail's tail, and Amara saw long, bronze-coloured spikes protruding along it every few inches. Amara gulped. She prayed Harry didn't get this dragon, and she wondered why they wanted nesting mothers, wouldn't that make them so much more dangerous?

The wizards were now carrying huge crates of eggs towards the fallen dragon, all of the granite grey eggs were in a blanket and were placed by the dragon. Hagrid let out a moan of longing.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," said Charlie sternly. Then he said, "How's Harry?"

"Fine," said Hagrid. He was still gazing at the eggs.

"Just hope he's still fine after he's faced this lot," said Charlie grimly, looking out over the dragons' enclosure. "I didn't dare tell Mum what he's got to do for the first task; she's already having kittens about him. . . ." Charlie imitated his mother's anxious voice. _"'How could they let him enter that tournament, he's much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!'_ She's not impressed by Amara though, even though I've told her countless times _there's nothing going on between them. _She was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about Harry too_. 'He still cries about his parents! Oh bless him, I never knew!' "_

Amara scowled at the fact Mrs Weasley thought she was trying to be with Harry. She was glad Charlie was sticking up for her, though. Harry nudged her and Amara glanced at him.

'Let's go,' he mouthed at her, and Amara nodded. She was feeling extremely tired now and wanted to get away from the dragons.

Amara tried to blank out her mind as they sped through the forest. There was fifteen minutes to go before Harry needed to be back and they were cutting it very close. Harry seemed very preoccupied, but they couldn't talk in case someone was there, overhearing them. This came apparent when Harry collided with someone and Amara had to catch him in case he fell over. They froze.

_"__Ouch!_ Who's there?"

Amara looked at the figure, and from the shape of his profile and the small goatee at the end, Amara knew it was Professor Karkaroff. But what was he doing out here?

"Who's there?" said Karkaroff again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. Amara and Harry remained still and silent. After a minute or so, Karkaroff seemed to decide that he had hit some sort of animal; he was looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then he crept back under the cover of the trees and started to edge forward toward the place where the dragons were.

Very slowly and very carefully, Amara and Harry set off again as fast as they could without making too much noise, hurrying through the darkness back toward Hogwarts.

Karkaroff was obviously trying to see the dragons, Amara decided as they practically ran towards the castle. He must've noticed Hagrid and Madame Maxime heading off in an odd direction around the forest in the middle of the night. But if Karkaroff was figuring it out, hidden by the trees so no one would notice, then Viktor Krum also knew about the dragons in the first task.

Cedric was going to be the only one facing the unknown on Tuesday. Amara knew that this was not fair. She wanted to tell him desperately. She decided that when they got back to the common room she was going to inform Harry of her decision. But what if he didn't want her too? What if he regretted taking her in the first place?

The two of them were very worn out when they got to the front doors, but with only five minutes to go, they dashed upstairs and tried to get to Gryffindor Tower as quickly as possible. The castle was as silent as it had been before they had seen the dragons. Everyone in the castle was asleep.

"Balderdash!" Harry gasped at the Fat Lady, who was snoozing in her frame in front of the portrait hole.

"If you say so," she muttered sleepily, without opening her eyes, and the picture swung forward to admit them. As Amara and Harry climbed inside, they saw that the common room was devoid of people. It looked as though they had all managed to get to bed without the use of force, or the use of dungbombs, as there was no lingering smell wafting around. Hermione had gone to bed already, as she was nowhere to be found. They took off the Cloak and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Dragons," spluttered Amara. Harry nodded. They looked at the badges the Creevey boys had been charming, now reading POTTER REALLY STINKS.

"Harry," Amara said slowly. "I think Cedric should know."

Harry looked at her blankly for a minute. He nodded, rubbing his eyes. He jumped out of his seat and glanced in shock at the fire.

Sirius Black's head was sitting in it. Amara very nearly, but refrained herself from doing so.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi," said Amara. "I better get going to bed."

"We'll talk tomorrow," promised Harry.

"Nice seeing you again, Sirius," Amara smiled, before she walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, Sirius and Harry's voices fading out the further she got away.

Once up in her dorm, Amara collapsed on her bed, wishing she could tell Hermione, but she was fast asleep, and Amara didn't want the other three girls to overhear her. Instead, she went into her bed and laid there, thinking about the events that had happened.

It was a long time before she could get to sleep.


	20. The First Task

**_A/N Thanks for all the reviews! First week of exams finished! Phew, I'm exhausted hahaha, but hope you like this update, interesting things will be coming soon ... ;) Please R&R xxx_**

**_(sorry I thought I uploaded this yesterday! But I only added it to Doc Manager :( so please enjoy!) _**

**_Chapter Twenty_**

**_The First Task_**

Amara didn't dare tell Hermione anything about the dragons until Harry has arrived and told them both about what happened after Amara went to sleep. So when Amara and Hermione were ready, they left Lavender and Parvati (who were both having a lie in) and went down to the sleepy feel of the Great Hall on a Sunday morning. Amara was rather tired after her night of walking the Forest and seeing the dragons, but she was looking forwards to a nice breakfast. They sat with Ginny that day, as Amara hadn't spoken to her in a while and wanted to catch up. Not ten minutes after they had started, Harry hurried in and sat down, impatiently waiting for Amara and Hermione to finish their porridge.

After they had finished he dragged them off for a walk in the grounds, which was becoming a regular habit. Harry and Amara filled in what happened when they went to Hagrid. Hermione was horrified about Harry having to face a dragon on Tuesday afternoon.

Amara eagerly asked for the information Sirius had said to Harry straight away.

"He said Karkaroff was a Death Eater," Harry said. "He was in Azkaban the same time as him but got released, some sort of deal got him out. Sirius suggests that Dumbledore got Moody so that he'd keep an eye on him for this year."

"Karkaroff is a Death Eater?" Amara said, rather alarmed. "But why - why is he headmaster? And ... What if he was the one to put you in the Tournament?"

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione cut across him.

"We can discuss that after the first task," Hermione said. "For now we need to find a spell for you to use on Tuesday!"

Amara and Harry nodded and they began to walk around the lake, trying to think of a charm to stop a dragon.

"You could use Transfiguration I suppose," said Amara. "But it would be quite advanced - I mean, Transfiguring something that's in the arena is going to be hard."

"What about a charm?"

"Well you'd need something that stops it from seeing you, but you don't want to harm the dragon, that would be too mean ..."

"Mean?" Harry looked at Amara in shock. "That thing could eat me and you don't want me to harm it?"

"Well no because it's just acting on instinct, you'd need something to cover its eyes or something..."

But after another two laps around the lake did nothing, so they retired to the library to find books on it instead.

Harry and Amara got every book they could see with the word dragon in it whilst Hermione spoke with Jesse who was already in the library. Amara and Harry had told her not to tell Jesse because it would be unfair. Amara still hadn't talked to Harry about talking to Cedric, but they needed to research first.

" _'__Talon-clipping by charms . . . treating scale-rot . . .' _This is no good, this is for nutters like Hagrid who want to keep them healthy. . . ."

_"'__Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate . . .'_ But Sirius said a simple one would do it. . . ."

"Let's try some simple spellbooks, then," said Harry, throwing aside _Men Who Love Dragons Too Much._ Amara grabbed her charms book out of her bag and flicked through it.

"Simple spell, simple spell ... What do we need?" Amara muttered to herself.

Harry returned to the table with another pile of books as Amara and Hermione discussed the different spells.

"Well, there are Switching Spells . . ."

"But what's the point of Switching it?"

"You might want to swap its fangs for wine-gums or something that would make it less dangerous. . . ."

"Yes but how would you guarantee that it will work? If it hits the scales it will just bounce off," whispered Amara. "Imagine turning into a wine gum?"

"What about Transfiguration?"

"That won't work ..."

"I doubt Professor McGonagall would be able to do it - but what about _yourself?_"

"What give you extra powers? But we haven't covered those yet in class ..."

"Nor is it in the O.W.L papers - we didn't do any in the practice ones we did right?"

"No," said Amara.

"Hermione, Amara, " Harry said, through gritted teeth, "will you shut up for a bit, please? I'm trying to concentrate."

Amara and Hermione went silent, reading their books by themselves and jotting down spells that may be of interest. Amara was annoyed at herself for not being more help.

Harry looked as though he was on the edge of breaking point, he was staring vividly at the page (a scalping hex) as though the answer would just jump out at them.

"Oh no, he's back_ again_, why can't he read on his stupid ship?" said Hermione irritably as Viktor Krum slouched in, cast a surly look over at the three of them, and settled himself in a distant corner with a pile of books. "Come on, you two, we'll go back to the common room . . . his fan club'll be here in a moment, twittering away. . . ."

And sure enough, as they left the library, a gang of girls tiptoed past them, one of them wearing a Bulgaria scarf tied around her waist.

-OOOOO-

Amara worried the next morning. Harry still hadn't told Cedric about the dragons, nor, it seemed, had he even thought about telling him. But the first task was tomorrow - how was Cedric going to look when he was the only one not knowing? They had planned to study together that night, and Amara decided to tell him there, if Harry didn't tell him.

Amara and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table waiting for Harry to turn up. They were both reading spell books but were not getting very far. Harry looked very preoccupied when he did arrive, and he sat without eating much as he stared around the Great Hall. If someone hadn't put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire this wouldn't have happened, Amara thought to herself. We'd be sitting here with Ron eagerly awaiting tomorrow.

When they got up to head to Herbology, Cedric got up from the Hufflepuff table at the same time, with a few of his friends. As both parties left the Great Hall, Cedric smiled at Amara, a smile which she returned. Harry watched Cedric too.

"Hermione, Amara, I'll see you in the greenhouses," Harry said. "Go on, I'll catch you up."

Amara looked at Harry as Hermione said:

"Harry, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring —"

Amara raised her eyebrow and he nodded. Amara grinned.

"Cedric?" she called after the retreating figure of the boy. She hurried to catch him up, Harry hurrying along behind with a confused Hermione. Cedric turned.

"Can I speak to you a minute?"

His friends asked if he wanted them to wait but he brushed them off.

"Sure," he said.

"Well Harry has something to say - we've got to go to Herbology, I'll see you tonight?"

Cedric nodded and Amara dragged Hermione away.

"What was that about?"

"Harry needed to tell Cedric," said Amara.

"Why?"

"Because he's the only one who doesn't know, it's fair," Amara replied as they walked down to the Greenhouses, the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors walking slightly ahead of them.

"Right," said Hermione. "Are you sure-?"

"Yes," snapped Amara. She did not want to get onto the subject do-you-secretly-love-Cedric that Hermione insisted on talking about everyday since Jesse had finally asked her out.

"I was only asking," said Hermione.

"For the fifth time this morning," said Amara. "Where's Harry? It doesn't take this long to tell someone their fighting dragons tomorrow afternoon."

"I don't know," said Hermione anxiously. "Maybe someone overheard them?"

"No, he wouldn't be that careless," said Amara. They'd entered the greenhouse now and Professor Sprout called for them to be silent.

"Today we shall be doing some tidying of the plants in this greenhouse," she said, motioning to the overgrown plants that were creeping around people's shoulders. "Finnigan, Weasley and Thomas - you'll be at these creepers here ..." Professor Sprout gave Hermione and Amara two Flutterby Bushes to prune because they could "make them neater than I could." According to Professor Sprout. They had learnt how to prune them the lesson before and from what it looked like, the two people on these bushes had done an awful job of it. They quivered as though they were scared and smelt of the sea that day.

Amara got some shears and started cutting the jagged edges.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione five minutes later. "It's not like him to just skip class."

"It's not as though this particular lesson is important," Amara replied. "He'll turn up."

Professor Sprout asked if they knew where he was and Amara said he was speaking to a teacher. She didn't know if it was true or not, but Professor Sprout accepted it.

Three minutes after that, Harry sped into the greenhouse. He muttered an apology to Professor Sprout and Amara saw Ron look at him curiously.

"Amara," Harry whispered. " And Hermione — I need you both to help me."

"What d'you think we've been trying to do, Harry?" Hermione whispered back, from across the table her eyes were round with anxiety.

"I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon."

"A summoning charm?" Amara repeated. "But why?"

"I'll need it to get my Firebolt in the castle, then I can fly it round the dragon," said Harry.

"Wow," said Amara, impressed. "How'd you come up with that so quickly?"

"Moody helped a little bit ..." Harry said rather sheepishly.

"Quite enough chatter over there!" Professor Sprout's voice carried across the greenhouse making everyone look at Amara, Harry and Hermione. Amara flushed slightly and buried herself into the Flutterby bush.

-OOOOO-

At lunchtime they went straight to a classroom so that Harry could try and summon various objects. They didn't have lunch either (much to Amara's dismay, as it was a lovely chicken casserole, so instead she grabbed a sandwich for them all) and they tried to help Harry get the summoning charm. He seemed to have a real block with it - the things kept dropping to the floor half way.

"Concentrate, Harry, _concentrate_. . ." Were Hermione's words.

"What d'you think I'm trying to do?" said Harry angrily. "A great big dragon keeps popping up in my head for some reason. . . . Okay, try again. . . ."

"Look, try and copy my movements," Amara said patiently. She rolled her robes up and demonstrated the charm. "You try now - the only way the dragon is going to stop is by learning the spell!"

Harry tried numerous times more, and there was some improvements, the objects now flew three quarters of the way.

He wanted to skip Divination to keep practicing, but Hermione refused point-blank to skive off Arithmancy, and even though Amara was tempted to skip Ancient Runes, it was one of her favourite classes, so she didn't. Harry looked fairly disgruntled and said goodbye to them at the fourth floor. Amara was glad that she had gone to her Ancient Runes class as they were going over a topic she wasn't so strong in.

Terry was rather chatty that day, he seemed excited for the next day's Task and couldn't wait to find out. Amara had to keep her mouth shut and shrug when he asked her what she thought it was going to be.

"But Harry must be trying to do something," pressed Terry.

"I don't know," said Amara irritably. "They're not supposed to know anyway."

After dinner Amara was meant to meet up with Cedric in the library. It was the first time she didn't want to go. She had decided to tell him that she couldn't make it as she walked from Ancient Runes to dinner, but as luck would have it, Cedric got there first.

"Amara!" Cedric's voice came from her right, just as she was about to enter the Great Hall.

"Yeah?"

Cedric looked slightly strained.

"Would it be utterly awful if I cancelled tonight?"

"No," smiled Amara in understanding. "That's completely fine."

Amara found Harry and Hermione gulping down dinner in the Great Hall when she finally arrived.

"Where have you been?"

"Talking to Cedric," said Amara. "We cancelled tonight."

"Why?" Hermione asked in interest.

"Well I _think _it _might _be because he wants to try and be able to fight a dragon tomorrow," said Amara. "But, you know, he could just be tired."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry looked on in interest.

"You talk to him quite a lot," he said, with a bit of a smirk. "Anything going on between you two?"

Amara scowled as he and Hermione laughed.

"No," she said. Harry and Hermione laughed harder. It seemed that they wanted a little bit of light relief, and this was gained until they met up again in the empty classroom to practice the charm again.

"I'm starting to hate this charm," said Amara as she yet again tried to help Harry get it right. "You know, Harry, you have the technique right, it just seems to not want to _get _there."

"Helpful," said Harry. "So what, my Firebolt's just going to fall in the lake if I don't get it?"

"Depends where you are," said Amara. "It could fly into the Whomping Willow."

This made Harry try a little harder for the next few practices. They kept practicing the spell over and over until past midnight. Amara was getting very tired, but she knew that there was no way Harry could defeat the dragon without completing this spell. They would have stayed in the empty classroom, but at about quarter past twelve, Peeves came along and wanted to join in: by throwing chairs at Harry. They left sharply after that because they did not want to attract an angry Filch. Once returning to the Gryffindor Common Room, it was fortunately completely empty.

Finally, at two o'clock, Harry had finally succeeded the summoning charm.

"That's better, Harry, that's loads better," Hermione said, looking exhausted but very pleased.

"Well, now we know what to do next time I can't manage a spell," Harry said, throwing a rune dictionary back to Hermione, so he could try again, "threaten me with a dragon. Right . . ." He raised his wand once more as Amara snorted from her place on the armchair.. "_Accio Dictionary_!"

The heavy book soared out of Hermione's hand, flew across the room, and Harry caught it.

"Harry, I really think you've got it!" said Hermione delightedly. Amara grinned too.

"Finally," she said. "You nearly made me hate Charms, poor Flitwick would have a heart attack if he found out."

"Don't listen to Amara," said Hermione, though Harry grinned. "You've really got it!"

"Just as long as it works tomorrow," Harry said. "The Firebolt's going to be much farther away than the stuff in here, it's going to be in the castle, and I'm going to be out there on the grounds. . . ."

"That doesn't matter," said Hermione firmly. "Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, it'll come. Harry, we'd better get some sleep . . . you're going to need it."

-OOOOO-

Amara's nails had been bitten down by lunchtime the next day. The rest of the school was high in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the afternoon's task. The lessons stopped at lunchtime so that after they had eaten they could make their way down to the dragon enclosure. Harry was out of it all morning – no one could talk to him as he seemed to be in a horrified daze the entire time. Amara couldn't blame him, they'd only got five hours sleep and didn't know if he still remembered the Summoning Charm.

The students around them didn't help either. Some did wish him luck, but others always hissed at him when he past. He didn't listen in History of Magic (Amara decided to be nice and make Hermione duplicate her notes) and Professor Binns did not seem to notice that everyone was too busy tapping their feet so they could get out of the lesson. Amara was with them, more out of nerves out of everything. She hadn't spoken to Jesse yet, but from the look on his pale face, she could tell he was worried for his friend. Amara herself was not only nervous about Harry but about Cedric as well, for he was the last one to know and had less time.

Halfway through lunch, Professor McGonagall hurried over to them.

"Potter, the champions have to come down onto the grounds now. . . . You have to get ready for your first task."

"Okay," said Harry, standing up, his fork falling onto his plate with a clatter.

"Good luck, Harry," Hermione whispered. "You'll be fine!"

"Just – you'll be fine," Amara said. She coughed.

"Yeah," said Harry in a high voice.

Once they disappeared through the doors Amara dropped her fork too.

"I can't eat anymore," said Amara.

"Neither can I," said Hermione.

Five minutes later, Professor Dumbledore got up to speak.

"In five minutes time we shall all head down to the Forest to an enclosure. The First Task will begin shortly after – and the four champions will face their first challenge. This challenge includes them trying any means to get past one of four dragons," there were gasps from the students and Amara saw Ron growing pale. "to retrieve the golden egg hidden within their nests."

"That explains why they wanted nesting mothers," hissed Amara as the school erupted into whispers. "This will make it even more dangerous!"

Hermione looked as though she was going to faint.

"It'll be fine though," said Amara hastily. Everyone was now being dismissed, so Hermione and Amara joined the crowd that was heading onto the grounds. They walked down the sloping lawns and got to the edge of the forest. Walking around it a slight way, they came to an enclosure, large and wooden. They entered it, and the saw a circle of seats like something in a theatre rose off the ground. In the middle was a rocky patch with a nest of eggs and the Swedish Short Snout dragon curled up next to them. Lots of the dragon handlers were surrounding the edge – Charlie standing out with his bright hair. He saw Amara and waved, grinning, and Amara tried to do the same back.

They filed into an empty row, Hermione still rather pale. Amara was so fixed on staring at the dragon that she didn't notice anyone sitting next to her until the spoke.

"I – I was wrong."

Amara jumped and turned to see Ron sitting next to her, twisting his scarf in his hands.

"What?"

"I – I'm sorry," Ron said with great difficulty. "I was wrong about Harry – no one would put themselves for this if they were our age and – and I was wrong about accusing you too."

Amara stared at him for a second.

"I'm sorry too," she said. "I jumped to the defence too quickly."

Ron looked at her.

"Really?"

"Yep," said Amara, grinning. Ron grinned too.

"Hug it out please," came Hermione's nervous voice. Amara laughed and gave her friend a hug.

All too soon Bagman came out and announced the first champion, as a whistle rang around the enclosure.

A figure came out of the tent and Amara saw it was Cedric. He looked pale but determined. The crowd cheered and the dragon looked at Cedric in deep mistrust. This was intensified when Cedric edged towards the patch of eggs with a gleaming golden one in the middle of it.

The dragon shot up and edged itself around the nest, protecting it from Cedric. When Cedric moved onto open space, hurrying slightly now, the dragon spurted flames straight at him. Amara squeaked as Cedric jumped out the way.

"Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow," said Bagman, who was commentating. The crowd was screaming and cheering for Cedric.

Cedric seemed to recover slightly and he dived towards a large bolder. Amara gripped Hermione and Ron's arm in a death grip.

Cedric moved again so that he was closer to the dragon. The dragon fired again, but Cedric was ready and he dived back behind the bolder.

"He's taking risks, this one!" came Bagman's voice.

Next, Cedric pointed his wand at a bolder, after a minute of concentration it turned into a small black Labrador. The Lab barked at the dragon. The dragon looked at it, rather confused, but as it was closer to the nest than Cedric, it decided to go for that. Taking his chance, Cedric ran towards the nest, Amara's heart thudded as he nearly reached it… But then the dragon got bored with the dog, and instead turned its attention to the still running Cedric. There was a burst of flame as the dragon went for him instead.

"Clever move — pity it didn't work!"

Cedric ran for the egg again, he grabbed it, just as the dragon spat out some more flame – Amara gasped as it struck him on the cheek. There was a roar as he hurried away from the dragon and the wizards came to take it away. The crowds clapped and cheered for Cedric as he staggered over towards Professor McGonagall.

"Very good indeed!" Bagman was shouting. "And now the marks from the judges!"

Madame Maxime was first – she shot a silvery eight in the air. Crouch, Bagman and Dumbledore gave eights as well, but Karkaroff gave a measly six.

"Must be his face," said Ron, trying to prise Amara's fingers off his dead arm.

"One down, three to go!" Bagman yelled as the whistle blew again. "Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur came out of the tent, looking very scared, her head held high and her wand trembling in her hand. The Swedish Short Snout had been replaced by the Common Welsh Green. The process of Fleur was slightly quicker – she enchanted the dragon into some sort of sleep, and hurried forwards to retrieve the egg. But before she got there, the dragon snored, and fire shot out. It set her skirt alight, which she needed to quickly extinguish. After a few more attempts, she too retrieved the egg.

Madam Maxime gave her a nine, Dumbledore gave an eight, but Bagman and Crouch gave her sevens, whilst Karkaroff again gave another six. Amara thought that it was unfair – Fleur had been just as good as Cedric had done.

"And here comes Mr Krum!" cried Bagman, and Krum slouched out of the tent in the corner. He seemed unfazed by the dragon, on the outside, but Amara couldn't believe that he wasn't scared on the inside. Krum tried to get as close as he could to the dragon before firing a spell at it. It let out a shriek as it hit it in the eye. The dragon wobbled and smashed into the eggs whilst Krum grabbed the golden one. Amara clapped with the rest as Krum slouched off, knowing with a horrified heart that Harry was going to face the Horntail next. Karkaroff gave Krum a ten, which Ron and Amara growled at, but Madame Maxime and Crouch gave sevens, whilst Dumbledore and Bagman gave eights.

The whistle blew for Harry's turn. Amara gripped Hermione's hand very tightly as she looked at the looming figure of the Horntail. Harry seemed to be frozen in his spot, looking around at the faces making a great deal of noise.

He raised his wand.

"_Accio Firebolt_!" he shouted. Everyone waiting with bated breath as he finished the spell. Amara crossed her fingers and prayed that the spell had worked. Suddenly there was a sound and the Firebolt shot towards Harry and landed mid-air near him.

"What an interesting turn!" Bagman shouted. "What's Mr Potter going to do?"

Harry mounted his broom and took off into the air. He soared upwards and he turned into a little pinprick. About two seconds later, he did a sudden dive that streaked to the ground. Amara squeaked as the crowd roared – the dragon opened its mouth and flames spurted out, but Harry dived out of the way in time.

"Great Scott, he can fly!" yelled Bagman as the crowd shrieked and gasped. "Are you watching this, Mr Krum?"

Harry soared higher in a circle; the Horntail followed his every move; its head revolving on its long neck, staring at him.

Harry dived again, missed the flames but the tail whipped around and caught him on the shoulder. Amara screamed, but Harry flew off as the crowd groaned and screamed with her.

Harry began to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she kept her eyes on him. Her head swayed this way and that, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared. . . Amara watched fearfully as Harry flew higher and higher, too high for the dragon to reach him. She shot fire and reared on her hind legs. Like a shot, Harry flew down to the ground and grabbed the egg that was now lying unprotected at the dragon's feet. Harry pulled out of the dive – the screams and the cheers of the crowd so loud now – and Amara cheered with them.

"Look at that!" Bagman was yelling. "Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to shorten the odds on Mr Potter!"

Amara clapped with the rest of them, relief flowing through her.

"He did it!" she squeaked. "He did it he did it he did it!"

Harry had now disappeared into the medical tent and the three friends got up quickly.

"Let's go see him," said Hermione still looking petrified.

"Yes," said Amara. Ron looked uncertain.

"Come on," Amara continued. "He'll understand."

They hurried out of the enclosure and dodged behind a few people until the managed to get to a tent. They hurried inside and saw Harry walking towards them.

"_Harry!" _Amara squeaked and she gave him a hug. "You were amazing!" She let go and beamed at him. He grinned back but then focused his attention on Ron, who was still pale and uncertain.

"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet — I — I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

"Caught on, have you?" said Harry coldly. "Took you long enough."

Amara and Hermione stood nervously between them, looking from one to the other. Ron opened his mouth uncertainly.

"It's okay," Harry said, before Ron could get any words out. "Forget it."

"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've —"

_"__Forget it,"_ Harry said.

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back. Amara grinned as well, but Hermione burst into tears.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, looking bewildered.

"You two are so _stupid_!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before any of them could stop her, she had given both of the boys a hug and dashed away, now positively howling.

Amara stared at her.

"I'd better go see her," she said, shaking her head. "Good luck with your results Harry!"

She gave them both another hug before walking out of the tent. She found Hermione crying on a tree being comforted by a bewildered Jesse.

"What's wrong with her?" Jesse said as Amara walked up to them.

"Harry and Ron are friends again," Amara said.

"And why is she crying?"

"I don't know," said Amara. "But I want to go see Cedric, do you mind?"

"No," said Jesse. "I can sort her out."

Amara smiled and ducked back inside the tent. Ron and Harry had both left and Amara ducked beneath the curtain containing Cedric. Madam Pomfrey was off doing other things.

"Well done Cedric!" said Amara, giving him a hug, trying to avoid the orange paste.

"Thanks," said Cedric. "Horrible though."

"Yeah," said Amara. "But you did it! You got the egg!"

Cedric nodded, before he could open his mouth, Madam Pomfrey bustled in and snapped for Amara to get out. When she was leaving, she caught what the matron was saying: "… you really shouldn't have let your girlfriend in this part …"

Amara flushed as she went out of the tent. Is that what people thought?

Amara met up with Ron and Harry just as they started walking back.

"What did you get?" she asked.

"You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" said Charlie, hurrying to meet them. This answered Amara's question. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened — but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah — and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes. . . . Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

Harry went back into the tent, and Charlie stayed outside for a few seconds to talk to Amara.

"Are you going now then?" she asked.

"Sorry," said Charlie. "I knew you'd miss me." He grinned at her.

Amara laughed, but gave him a hug goodbye before he hurried off.

It was only two minutes later that Harry left the tent again. They set off to the castle, Amara wondering where Hermione had got to. She supposed she was with Jesse, and she didn't really want to know what they were up to. Suddenly, a woman jumped out from behind a tree.

It was Rita Skeeter. She was wearing acid-green robes today; the Quick-Quotes Quill in her hand blended perfectly against them.

"Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at Harry. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. "_Good-bye_."

And he set off back to the castle with Ron and Amara, laughing as they did so.


End file.
